Robots
by SandmanCircus
Summary: A post-apocalyptic romance between a girl and a homicidal robot. "If you come any closer I swear I will rip you apart." The metal gears which made up his red eyes rotated in contemplation then widened comically as his lips pulled into a manic grin. Razor edged teeth flashed as he leaned in close. "Promise?" he hissed. SoulMaka.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Moved from my one-shot collection 'Shades of Grey' to become a chapter story.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The heavy metal of the scythe against her spine offered a false sense of security. A rare sensation, not easily attainable within the skeletal wasteland around her. At one time a city of lights, sounds, and life, what remained was the bare bones of once great skyscrapers; their windows long blown out during a war with near apocalyptic consequences.

"Waiting for an invitation, princess?" A smarmy voice.

Maka elbowed the body behind her, satisfied with the resulting gasp of pain that followed with a breathy, "You bitch."

She turned around, a finger to her lips. "Quiet, you dolt. We don't know who's out there."

Deciding to ignore the middle finger sent from her companion, Maka once again crouched low. Despite what she'd said, she _was _stalling - afraid for reasons which escaped her. Normally she would be eager to work, the adrenaline the only respite from the monotonous life in the caves. Yet today, something stopped her from stepping out into the open, a hesitation she didn't understand. Maka's fingers curled around the stone beside her, the fact that BlackStar noticed had chaffed.

Still, something was wrong. A nagging feeling in her gut told her not to go, told her that if she left the den something bad was going to happen. That she would get tangled in a mess she couldn't get out of. Maka growled under her breath and shook her head. Pushing aside her weariness was like rubbing fur the wrong way. Her instincts had kept her alive in the increasingly savage world and to ignore them was like a bad taste in her mouth, but at the same time she refused to indulge the inclination. People counted on her, _children _counted on her.

With that thought, Maka pushed through the small hole in the wall - one of the only entrances to the caverns shielding the survivors - trying and failing to extinguish the sinking feeling in her gut. The second she was out she was running, speeding off to the alley across the road. After several moments, she was joined by three other people.

Turning to face them once the last member had entered the alley, she pointed to the man on her left. "Kilik, eleventh sector. BlackStar, twentieth. Patty, you can have the third and I'll take the tenth. Questions?" They shook their heads. "Good, go." Kilik and Patty left in opposite directions without a word, but BlackStar remained, squinting at her.

Maka frowned, her uneasiness making her snap, "What?"

"You want me to take ten?" he asked. "You seem a little... off." The tenth sector was the biggest (and consequently the most dangerous) of the four areas their team was in charge of. She might have thought the offer was sweet if she hadn't been so insulted.

She shook her head at his question and when he still remained unconvinced, she pushed him. "I'm fine! Go!"

"But-"

"I'm on my period," she lied quickly.

"Ugh." BlackStar's face twisted in disgusted horror. "Women are such a gross species. You can have ten, but be careful!" he called over his shoulder before speeding off around a corner with his sword in hand.

Maka smiled as she left the alley for sector ten, momentarily forgetting the eerie apprehension twisting in her mind.

* * *

After the Robot Wars, humans were forced underground for their safety, hundreds of people (mostly seniors, children, and those forced to stay behind to protect their home while others fought) hid away in caverns made from old subway lines on the chance that mankind lost the war. That was ten years ago - and food was becoming scarce. To solve the problem, the city and surrounding areas were split into sectors which were scoured periodically by teams for food.

Maka opened her fifth empty fridge of the day.

It was a slow process.

Closing the door, she spray-painted a fat 'X' on it and moved to check if the house had a freezer in the basement.

A faint squeak to her left.

Maka froze, tilting her head to try and hear better. Another squeak. Smiling, she leaned her scythe against the kitchen counter and stuffed the paint can in her bag.

Scanning the kitchen, she slowly lowered to her knees. "Come on out, little mouse. I won't hurt you," she whispered.

Pulling a few crumbs from her pocket (remnants of a meagre lunch), Maka laid them out slowly in front of her. It was a moment later that she saw him, grey fur, black beady eyes, a twitching nose. "You must be hungry, huh?"

A hunger which took over the rat's obvious suspicions. A momentary pause passed between them before his claws tapped frantically against the tile floors in his lust for the leftover biscuit bits.

Maka stabbed a knife into its head. With a flick of her wrist the rat joined the other three rodents in her pack.

"Hey, Maka." The voice was smooth, a paradoxically organic tone from the lips of a genetically engineered machine.

Maka rose from her crouch, forcing herself to calmly wipe the knife clean against her pant leg as her heart spiked. Her only visible acknowledgement of the being behind her was a monotoned reply, "I thought I told you to leave me alone, Soul."

A pale hand landed on the counter near the sink. Maka struggled to keep her motions calm and unaffected, sliding the blade back into her boot with a methodical ease that bellied her nerves. The perfect fingers tapped an absent rhythm in her peripheral vision, a calculated action she knew was meant to disarm her - robots didn't fidget.

He laughed softly, mockingly, "We both know that's not what you want." She suppressed an instinctive shiver, suppressed also the primal monkey thoughts in her mind screaming, _Sex! Sex! Sex! _at the sheer sensuality he emanated. Because, though a robot, he was irrefutably _male_.

The second she turned to face him, he moved with a quick efficiency to entrap her. Pushing with his chest, the robot forced her against the counter, successfully herding her until he had her trapped between his arms.

Maka's breathing hitched, heavy with emotion as she locked eyes with the steel man who'd haunted her for so many months. "If you come any closer I swear I will rip you apart." The metal gears which made up his red eyes rotated in contemplation then widened comically as his lips pulled into a manic grin. Razor edged teeth flashed as he leaned in close. "Promise?" he hissed.

She growled when he lowered his lips to her neck. "I told you we weren't doing this again," she hissed, though her heart beat quickened in anticipation.

She felt his mouth slowly curve upward in reply. A human reaction which no doubt had to be programmed into him. _"_I don't remember agreeing. And if I recall, you enjoyed yourself." His teeth nipped her neck.

Maka clenched her thighs, eyes closing at the wicked sensation. But God, he was _so_...

She gasped as he pressed his groin against her crotch. "Soul..."

"Shh..." he murmured soothingly into her hair even as he repeated the action. Harder. "Come with me, Maka, and I'll catch you all the mice you want."

It would be so wrong - against everything she fought for. It had been wrong the first time she'd had sex with the enemy, and it had been wrong the second, third, and fourth time too.

He palmed her breast.

And if things continued like this it would evidently be wrong many, many times in the next hour...

Just like the first time he'd found her, he evaded her defences, slithering passed with a wicked sensuality that shouldn't have turned her on like it did.

"So warm," he whispered against her throat. Warmth. Something she'd learned in the past few months that he craved - a being of cold metal. Even the lifelike skin of the male surrounding her was devoid of the heat he so yearned for. "Your blood would be warmer..." Maka jolted at the words hissed with a coldness that lacked the usual erotic promise.

"Soul," she murmured, hoping her tone sounded as stern as she'd meant it to.

"I'll be warm soon," he promised, roughly shoving her pants down to her knees with a practiced ease and no hesitation. In the same motion, he lifted her onto the counter and immediately pushed two cold fingers inside her - halting whatever she might have said in protest at his rough treatment. Soul shuddered, as close to sexual ecstasy as a robot could probably get. "So hot," he whispered to her reverently, moving close to nip painfully at her lips.

He kissed her then, reaching up with his free hand to possessively cup her nape and smash their mouths together. He licked and sucked with passion, groaning loudly when blood spilled from the wound he gave her. His tongue traced the bite.

The pain gave Maka the needed incentive to push the automaton away. Soul lazily removed his fingers and allowed Maka to create space between them.

"I said no!" she snapped. Ashamed at her weakness to him, Maka slid off the counter, chest heaving with self-loathing. When she finally looked up at him, all semblance of human emotion had disappeared from his face. Deadly clinical eyes studied her from a coldly handsome face, waiting. "I said no..." she repeated breathlessly.

"And yet you want me as much as I want you."

He spoke the truth, but the deadly calm voice he conveyed his message with simply reinforced the importance of her decision. He was a robot, one high on the heat of her skin, but a robot nonetheless. And even if he responded to her like this, she had to tell herself it was only obsession on his part. He didn't feel anything - she'd seen the evidence. His irises rotated, a patient red that missed nothing.

"Yes," Maka admitted.

"Then what's the problem?" The sleazy sexuality had returned to his voice, no doubt a product of methodical studies of human sexual interactions - knowing this, however, didn't stop the shivers that ran the length of her spine at the alluring timbre. He once again moved to her, elegant fingers slithering along her skin and squeezing her flesh possessively.

_The problem is you're a fucking toaster and for some reason I keep forgetting that._

Maka pulled up her sweats, an irrational need to spare the feelings he didn't have keeping her thoughts from spilling passed her lips. "I don't have time for this," she told him instead, tying the drawstring of her pants with jerky motions. "It's been fun, have a nice life."

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. "We're not done here."

She turned with a sharp retort but the momentum was used against her when he push them to the ground. Their limbs tangled and his face smashed against hers in his effort to connect their lips. She gasped as his cold fingers slid beneath her shirt and pressed into the heated flesh of her stomach. He moaned, lips trailing to her jaw as he pushed their bodies painfully close. "You're just using me," she accused breathlessly.

He chuckled."Only as much as you're using me."

_I wish..._

With her final resistance torn down, Maka closed her eyes and immersed herself in the experience, drunk on desire, lust, and the wrongness of sex with the enemy.

* * *

A/N: So yeah, again, this was previously posted in SOG. I made a second part, also posted in SOG...then a third was written...and a fourth. So rather then having a "seven-shot", I've decided to remove the story from the collection and post it separately.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It had been two months since she'd last seen Soul. It was the longest he'd ever stayed away since their initial meeting six months prior. On the days she was completely honest with herself, she could admit it bothered her, though she didn't care to ponder the reasons _why_. Maka began drumming her fingers absently against the table in a familiar rhythm as she reluctantly thought of her robot. It was always Soul who sought her out while she was on the job, even finding her when she switched sectors. She was... curious about where he'd gone, though even if she did want to find him (which she _didn't_), where would she even start? She belatedly realized the drum of her fingers was familiar because it was the mannerism Soul often used to lull her into a sense of calm. She immediately stopped.

"Why so glum, chum?"

Maka stopped scowling at her fingers and looked up at Blackstar. "Just... bored I guess," she mumbled as he slid into the seat beside her, dropping his lunch in front of him.

"With a full serving of uneaten rat and bean porridge? I find that hard to believe."

Maka cringed at the reminder, eyeing the steamy bowl of who-the-hell-knew-what in front of her. Not even the cook knew _exactly _what was put in the "porridge" (though she ensured it was nutritious to anyone who dared ask), but Blackstar's guess of rat and beans probably wasn't far from the truth. Frowning, Maka stuck her spoon in the bowl and scooped out a congealed lump. Oh god, was that an eyeball?

Blackstar noticed it as well. "I dare you to eat it."

Maka glared at her lunch which happened to be glaring back at her. Unnerved, her hard stare switched to Blackstar. "Screw you."

"Get in line."

She flicked the eyeball at his face and laughed when he released an outraged squeak.

"Anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?"

Maka turned, a smile blooming on her face. "Kidd, how are you? Come sit." She patted the place beside her and scooted over, elbowing Blackstar till he grunted and did the same.

"As good as can be expected," Kid replied kindly, sitting down beside Maka with a large book tucked beneath his arm, his tone and expression excited despite his words. After he'd adjusted her fork and knife into neat parallel lines, he turned to them and smiled. "I have something to show you guys."

Blackstar perked up. "Food? No, Porn! _Please_ tell me you found porn!"

"No," Kidd said as Maka punched Blackstar. "But I did find an album containing pictures of all the soldiers enrolled in the Deathcity regiment." He carefully placed the thick book on the lunch table, wiping off dust from one corner gently. He turned back to them with a quick smile. "It has photos of my father - it's possible you could find your families as well."

Maka and Blackstar turned immediately serious. Any familial pictures the survivors may have had, if they had any at all, were small and worn from constant handling. This was mainly because the war had been considered a sure win for humankind and, when packing their belongings for a 'temporary stay' away from home, many people had felt it unnecessary to bring along something as trivial as personal photos. It was a lapse in judgement many would regret.

"Where did you find it?" Maka asked, staring in awe.

"It was in the attic of a home my team was assigned to scavenge, I figure it must have belonged to one of the soldiers. It was covered by a tarp so even though the outside is damaged, the pictures inside are still in relatively good condition. Here, look."

Blackstar took hold of the book and immediately began flipping through it, ignoring the shriek of "careful you idiot!" from beside him. When he finally found the face he was searching for, one he hadn't seen in over ten years, he could only stare in breathless shock. "Whitestar." His fingers stroked the image reverently.

Maka leaned in, finding the name printed under a grinning young man. "Your brother?" she asked.

He nodded, carefully tearing the portrait out of the album. Maka didn't know much about Blackstar's family, and what she did know wasn't exactly praiseworthy. He told her once (after consuming a stupid amount of alcohol they'd found in an abandoned bar) that his brother was the only one he had been in contact with before the war. "He was the only person I ever loved," he'd mumbled into the rim of his bottle with a wistful sadness. He was a sad drunk.

As Blackstar seemed to be in a temporary daze, Maka took the opportunity to slide the book closer to her. Flipping through the pages, Maka watched as the endless grey faces flashed by. Parents, siblings, lovers, friends, family - all dead, leaving behind the people who had loved them. She reached the final page just as a familiar bitterness was turning into a painful knot in her gut. It showed a large group picture of about twenty soldiers, all lined up in neat rows staring into the camera with uncertain smiles. Her eyes traveled over the faces and she idly nudged Blackstar when she spotted his brother. "Look, it's another picture of your-" Maka inhaled a sharp breath, her eyes widening, tremors invading her fingers.

Blackstar tore the book from her fingers. "Where?"

Maka shoved him away and pulled the album back, eyes glued to the photo.

"What the hell, Maka?" Blackstar growled, trying a second time to grab the book only to have his hand immediately slapped aside.

Paler than normal, Maka put a finger beside the image of a young soldier standing casually beside Whitestar. "Who is this?"

Blackstar frowned at her, noting the soft shaking of her shoulders. "You feeling okay, Maka? You're looking a bit green."

She nodded sharply. "I'm fine. Do you know who this is?"

Blackstar looked to where she pointed. "Yeah," he said after awhile, brows furrowing. "That's Soul, I think his last name was Evans - maybe Eater. He and my brother were friends. Quiet guy if I remember... Look, are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Maka swallowed the bile rising up in her throat, dread a heavy weight in her chest. She looked to her friend, eyes wide and haunted. "I've seen him..."

Blackstar rolled his eyes. "Well, _obviously. _So what did the bastard do to make you this upset? Sleep with your mother? Kill a pet bunny? Burn a dictionary?"

"_No_, I mean I've seen him. _Recently_. As in the last six months," she bit out. Why couldn't her hands stay still?

His eyes widened. "He's... alive?"

She lowered her gaze to the picture, lips pressed tightly together. Her finger brushed his face, not quite believing her eyes. "He's a robot."

Blackstar narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Growing flustered because she knew how foolish her words sounded, she snapped, "I've seen his exact face on a robot. He had white hair, red eyes, and shark teeth so maybe his appearance was altered."

Blackstar shook his head, suddenly looking queasy. "No, if what you're saying is true - and I'm not saying it is - he, or his appearance rather, wasn't altered. He had red eyes and pale hair before the war."

"And the teeth?"

"Those too." Blackstar ran a restless hand through his hair and laughed without humour. "I remember we weren't allowed to ask him about them - whenever me or my friends would try he just growled at us." He rubbed his face in frustration. "Jesus christ are we actually considering this? Kidd stop stacking the creamers, this is serious!"

"Maka," a calm voice spoke from beside her. Maka turned to Kidd, who she'd completely forgotten in her pileup of emotions. He'd aligned the creamers into equal groups of four and had just moved on to the sugar packets when he faced her and spoke. "Be certain," he told her seriously. "This isn't a claim that can be downplayed once made."

Maka hesitated, knowing he was right. They'd killed hundreds of robots over the years - suddenly learning they might have been former lovers, friends, and family could tear the already fragile stability among the survivors. Even if it was learned that only their appearance had been used, the information alone could send the weaker ones over the edge. Still, the longer she pondered it, the more she believed it (and she r_efused_ to consider the possibility that her longing for it to be true held any sway whatsoever in that belief). "I'm sure."

Kidd nodded. "I'm not saying I don't believe you, but it's too soon to act without proof." He paused, before asking, "Did you kill the robot?"

Maka froze. "I - no... he got away," she lied.

The way Kidd stared at her made her nervous, and she wondered briefly whether or not he believed her. Finally, when she was certain she could take his scrutiny no longer, he turned back to his sugar packets. "For now we'll keep it between us."

* * *

For the first time since she'd met him, Maka actively sought out Soul. She told herself, as she scoured the city relentlessly, that she was looking for him simply to confirm or disprove her theory - but she couldn't deny the grudging eagerness she felt at the prospect of seeing him. When they were together, she was never bored, never worried about the other survivors. He was a respite from a way of life she'd grown sick of the day it had started.

Her eagerness slowly diminished, however, as hours of searching passed with absolutely _no_ sign of Soul. Maka sighed as she stopped for a short break between two buildings, sliding down the wall to the cobblestone floor. She placed her scythe under her bent knees and pulled two stale biscuits from her jacket pocket. She took bite and immediately choked.

"Why are you looking for me?"

She looked up through watery eyes, coughing out biscuit bits from her trachea. Soul stared down at her calmly, if not slightly irritated.

"You did that on purpose," she accused in a raspy voice, glaring at him.

"Maka, answer the question," he replied sternly.

She coughed again, rubbing her throat. "Who says I'm looking for you?"

He crouched down so they were eye level. "You've been running in and out of houses all morning and after four hours you haven't found a crumb."

"So?" she griped, feeling childish. "That doesn't mean I'm looking for you."

He raised a brow. "So you aren't looking for me?" He obviously didn't believe her.

She paused, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and glaring at him. She decided to change the subject. "How the hell did you know where I was anyway?"

"I put a microchip in your skin, I'm always aware of your location. Now tell me why-"

"_You put a microchip in me!?_" Maka shrieked. Her hands touched her neck. "Where the hell did you put it?!"_  
_

"If I told you, you'd just take it out."

"Listen you piece of-"

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and pushed her roughly into the wall. He brought his face close to hers, red eyes intense and rotating slowly as they focused on her face. "It's been a long time Maka," he said it slowly, "and I can think of things I'd much rather be doing then arguing all day with you. As ever, you are trying my patience with your inane babbling, so either you start talking or we're going to find new and creative ways to get rough."

She really shouldn't be turned on right now...

"Okay, I was looking for you."

"I _know_," Soul growled.

As he seemed to be getting angrier by the second, she decided to just blurt it out, "I think you used to be human! Or... at least I think you share the face of one."

Soul's expression grew blank as he stared at her for several seconds. "...I see," he said hollowly, leaning back and releasing her shoulders.

"Here, let me show you." Maka scrambled up to reach for her backpack. She dug around and pulled out the individual portrait of him she'd found in Kidd's album. She stood up and walked to him, shoving it in his face, "Look!"

Soul calmly took the photo, examining it.

"Don't you see? You could have been soldier!" she said. "On _our side_!"

Soul lifted his gaze to look at Maka. "I know."

Her world stopped. "You... you know? Does that mean-"

"Yes." He nodded. "I was once human."

* * *

A/N: Part 3 will be posted next Sunday (April 20th)

DEDICATED TO: X Cheetah X (thank you again for your lovely reviews)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A lone crow shrieked in the afternoon sky, concealed in the thick, yellow miasma - its broken and frayed feathers barely keeping it airborne. Further off in the distance, the faint echo of bombs thundered as machines tore through all evidence of humanity. Heard faintly above both was the sound of a restless wind beckoning a storm. None of it registered as Maka processed the words spoken to her in a careless nonchalance that bellied their cataclysmic significance. "I was right," she murmured, eyes moving from his face to stare blankly at a dirty puddle a few feet away. She was right - which meant her whole world was forever changed.

Maka pressed a hand against the soot stained wall for support. She fought to keep her breathing even, her chest uncomfortable and full. Maka had to force the next words through her lips. "Then if you were changed... was everyone else?"

There was a moment of silence before Soul replied, "For the most part, yes."

_All this time_... she gritted her teeth and clenched her fingers. The endless years in that dark cave came to the forefront of her mind. A cold, dark prison where fear permeated from every body in the crowded rooms of connecting subway stations - it was a place completely devoid of hope. The only respite had been when she'd been allowed out to scavenge for food. By that time, however, she'd already spent several years locked below the ground. "Do you still have your memories from your life before?"

"Yes."

"Then why did no one ever return?"

Soul studied her dispassionately for several moments before folding his portrait. After casually reaching over to slide it into her front shirt pocket, he leaned back and stated calmly, "Why would we?"

Maka squinted at him. "Why? Because your family and friends were waiting for you! They've spent over a decade believing you were dead!"

"So?" he asked, carelessly brushing her words aside.

Anger sparked. "What do you mean '_so_'? Everyone thought the entire army had been killed! We were alone for _years_! Don't you care?"

"Maka, we aren't human." He said it calmly, a condescension in his tone as though he was explaining something obvious to a child. His eyes began to rotate slowly as he added more sharply, "You should know this better than anyone considering you use every opportunity to remind me of this fact."

"This isn't about us!"

"Isn't it?" His tone was cold.

"No!" Maka shot back, bristling at his unimpressed expression. "This is about humanity losing 70 percent of its population almost overnight! Nothing was sent home, no letters, no phone calls - nothing was heard from the soldiers after they left!"

He watched her in quiet contemplation when she finished, a frown on his face as he took in her flushed cheeks and ruffled hair. After nearly a minute had passed in silence, she reached the limits of her patience. "Say something!"

Finally, he obliged. "I don't know why this is so important to you," he held up a hand when she bristled, "but if you come with me, I will tell you everything you wish to know."

Suspicion warred with curiosity. "You'll answer my questions? All of them?"

He nodded. "To the best of my ability."

The wary feeling she always felt on the days he came to her swamped her senses. The primitive instinct with a sense of wrongness that made her shiver. His expression was unbiased when she looked up at him, simply waiting for her to decide - as if her choice didn't matter in the slightest. She didn't believe for a second the air of carelessness he presented, considering all the times he'd tried to take her away with him. Still, his blank stare was far preferable to the "smile" he sometimes wore to try and put her at ease (which really scared the ever living shit out of her). She swallowed. "Where exactly would we be going?"

Now he did smile, and it was just as terrifying as she remembered. "You'll see."

* * *

Maka moved as slow as physically possible without showing how much she dreaded going anywhere with him. If he noticed her reluctance he didn't mention it, simply waited patiently (albeit smugly) as she wrapped up her discarded biscuit and stuffed it in her pocket, re-tied her shoelaces, and brushed off her pants. Without anything left to do, she warily collected her backpack and picked up her scythe.

"Ready?"

Maka nodded grudgingly at the ground, scuffing the heel of her boot against the cement.

"Then follow me."

Maka trailed a short distance behind Soul as they left the safety of the alley. She felt unnerved when their path widened into an open road, and furtively scanned their surroundings. For obvious reasons, she always tended to avoid open areas like this - with Soul she had one more reason to consider. Looking over at him, she didn't know what worried her more: a robot finding and attacking them, or one of her friends spotting her with Soul. With that sobering thought, she pondered for the hundredth time the semantics of their 'relationship'.

On one hand, the sex was great. He brought her rats which was sweet (though, admittedly, he probably only did it so he could get in her pants) and he seemed to at least _like _her when he wasn't blatantly threatening her (which, when asked, he'd assured her was "just foreplay"). And, she could admit when she was being totally honest with herself, he was her only reprieve from an otherwise hopeless existence.

On the other hand... he was her enemy. He was also an all around creepy guy that had more than a few screws loose, a _robot_ that threatened her regularly (she didn't really believe his "foreplay" line), a stalker with multiple (unpleasant) personalities, and the only emotion aside from lust he ever exhibited was anger. There was also a good chance he was only using her as a personal heater because he was tired of feeling cold. She'd even once considered bringing him the hot water bottle she used in the winter only to immediately nix the idea when it occurred to her that he might no longer need her (which made her frustrated that she _wanted_ him to need her).

Minutes passed into hours as Maka's thoughts battled furiously in her head. When she belatedly noticed the darkening sky, she broke the silence. "How much farther is it?" she asked. "I have to be back before they start preparing dinner."

"Almost there," he called back. Something in his voice prickled her awareness, unsettling her.

A moment passed and the ominous feeling in her gut intensified, halting her feet. Something was wrong. Slowly pulling her scythe from the ties on her backpack, Maka looked around, trying to locate the cause of her unease.

"What's wrong?"

Maka's head jerked around to see Soul facing her, much closer than he'd been before. She slowly backed away, alarms blaring in her head. "I think maybe we should do this tomorrow. I have to be back soon."

His eyes flashed and their gears rotated in what Maka had learned to be growing irritation. "No."

"Listen-"

"No!" he hissed. "We've come too far, you aren't going anywhere."

Panic sparked and she held out a hand to halt him. "Soul-"

He grabbed both her arms painfully and pulled her closer. "You aren't being co-operative, Maka."

Maka glared up at him, raising her weapon. "Let go, Soul. You're hurting me."

"Good," he growled, leaning in to hiss in her ear, "perhaps it's finally time we see how hot your blood really feels."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Maka jerked away and rammed the blunt edge of her blade into his temple. She spun and shot off at a dead sprint. Before gaining any real distance, fingers grabbed a handful of her t-shirt and jerked her backwards. Maka instinctively twisted with the motion, swinging her scythe around through the turn. Soul caught the staff before the blade could reach his neck.

He jerked the scythe from her grip, grabbed the back of her head and kissed her.

Maka met him head on, raising her arms to thread her fingers through his hair and pull him closer. Soul pushed his tongue into her mouth, playfully biting hers when she did the same. He grinned when she growled against his lips. Soul's hands moved down to her ass and hoisted both her legs up around his waist. He broke off their kiss to allow her to breath and trailed his lips down her neck.

Maka tried to concentrate on the sensation, but a high pitched sound entered her ears.

"Soul."

"Mm."

The noise got louder. "What's that sound? It's like... whistling?"

Soul immediately jerked back. He pushed her legs off his hips and turned to the sky.

"Soul?"

He looked back at her, his eyes suddenly appearing... conflicted? Guilty? For a strange moment, it was like she was looking into the eyes of a completely different person.

"Get back," he breathed, his voice more human than she'd ever heard it. "Now!"

Not letting her speak, Soul pulled her with him as he raced around the edge of a building. He pushed her into a small niche made by leaning concrete debris and rusted metal sheets. "Crouch low," he said, frantic. "Hurry!"

She looked up at him as he leaned over her, shielding her. Their eyes connected and for the first time she saw fear in his. Why was he acting so different?

All the while, the whistling grew louder and louder and louder... until the world around them exploded.

* * *

The moments that passed following the impact of the exploision seemed like an eternity, though Soul knew for a fact it only took a minute and forty-three seconds for the dirt and dust in the air to settle enough that he could raise his head. His right arm, he noticed, had been cleaved in two by the deadly shrapnel implanted in the bomb. From the angle, it had most likely ricocheted off the building opposite him. Aside from the tissue fluid draining out and the inconvenience of it, the injury was of little consequence so he dismissed it. He slowly lifted his body off his charge, mindful of any other injuries he might have sustained as serrated rubble and brick tumbled off him.

Maka was breathing shallowly, and with some difficulty. He leaned down close to her so he could wrap his left arm under her armpit and around her waist. Lifting her from her niche in the wall to lean against his chest, he awkwardly pulled them several feet away before gently laying her flat on the ground. She felt colder. A needle of pain shot through his head as he looked down at her. As the particular sensation was an almost constant ache whenever he was around her, he ignored the anomaly.

She appeared fragile, broken. He growled then, irritation sparking suddenly and without warning. Frailty didn't suit her. He touched her hand and nearly hissed. How _dare_ she act so cold and broken in front of him. She was always spiting him, denying him, _judging_ him. His fingers tightened, muscles clenched, and an all encompassing urge to rip through her skin swallowed him whole. It was sudden and powerful and he didn't fight it. Fury boiled through him, hiding the cold. His eyes roved over her in yearning, in lust - he wasn't sure if it was for her blood or her body and he didn't care.

He moved to touch her once more when a glint by her head caught his eye. He offered it an impatient, distracted glance but paused when his eyes caught a pool of red.

The anger left him in a cold, dead rush. Slowly, so slowly, he leaned over and touched it, allowing it to stain his fingers. His eyes blankly followed the puddle up to Maka's scalp. Her hair was plastered to the side of her head in a morbid tangle of red so dark it was nearly black. The pain in his head increased, expanded, but he ignored it. Looking down at his fingers again, he finally allowed his mind to process and identify the substance.

Blood.

Emotion returned to him in a torrent so painful he was nearly rendered unconscious.

* * *

A/N: If you're mad at my short chapters, you'll be pleased to know the next one is roughly twice this length (well, almost). It's also the big explanation chapter so... you've been warned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The first thing Maka noticed when awareness slowly returned to her was the impossible stiffness of her body - the stench of stale mildew a close second. Eyes peeling open, she tiredly took in the dark, unfamiliar room around her. She moved to sit up and the world instantly skewed sideways. Hit with a nauseating rush of vertigo, Maka reached up to clutch the sides of her head and groaned.

A cool hand clasped her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. When she began to struggle, she heard, "_Shh_. It's okay. Lay back down, you're safe."

Maka continued pushing stubbornly against the restraining hand and the voice sighed, resigned. "Here, I'll help you sit up." Two hands gripped her beneath the armpits and hauled her up the bed. After pillows were propped up behind her, she was allowed to sink back against them. Her eyes felt heavy when she opened them a second time and the world continued to sway.

"The dizziness will pass," the voice (male?) assured.

Maka swallowed with difficulty, her throat dry. "Water."

The fuzzy presence beside her left for a moment. When he returned, the rim of a plastic bottle was pressed to her lips. "Slowly, Maka," he warned. She ignored him, hands wrapping around his wrist and greedily gulping down as much as she could. He pulled it away and growled. "Slower or you're not getting any." After a moment, he returned the bottle to her mouth and she forced herself to take smaller sips.

Once she was finished and he'd taken the water away, the world finally began to return to normal. Her vision cleared completely several moments later and she turned to see Soul hunched over in a chair beside her bed. His elbows were braced on his knees, his hands clasped loosely between them. He must have noticed the awareness in her expression because he gave her a small smile. The action was minimal and insignificant - it was also the most genuine expression she'd ever seen on his face.

She softly cleared her throat. "Where are we?"

"In the basement of a small home outside the city."

"I guess that explains the smell." Maka rubbed the side of her face tiredly. "I feel weak," she muttered.

"It's a temporary symptom of the medication I've given you. The effects should wear off soon," he said absently, as though distracted by another thought.

Maka nodded. Watching him, she frowned lightly. "You seem... different."

His abrupt laugh held no humour. "I feel different."

He looked it too. The easy apathy and cool confidence she was used to seeing in his expression had vanished, replaced with a weary resignation that unnerved her. His eyes had also changed - once cold and impassive, they now looked back at her haunted.

She studied him, hesitated, then said, "Soul, I remember the explosion but nothing else. Do you know what happened?"

A short nod. "We had entered a zone scheduled to be bombed." He didn't look at her as he spoke, staring instead at the lines of his palm. "As a result, you suffered a concussion."

"Oh," Maka touched the back of her head, felt the bandage. "I never knew the bombings were scheduled."

"They aren't always." His words were emotionless in a way they'd never been before - numb rather than apathetic. "However, there are times when large explosives are necessary to complete certain tasks - implement certain plans. In these instances, a signal will be sent to those in the vicinity several hours prior to detonation as a warning."

"Did you not get the signal then?"

He shook his head. "No, I got it."

"So why...?"

Hands clenching together, his voice was hoarse with disgust when he next spoke. "I deliberately led you into a hot zone in an attempt to incapacitate you. I wanted you to be harmed just enough that you'd be forced to stay with me. I also knew if you believed the injuries were caused accidentally you would be less likely to resent your situation."

Maka sat stunned, eyes roving over his face for signs of deception. "You son of a bitch..." she whispered. As the shock faded, an icy feeling of betrayal cut deep, and as her throat clogged with rising tears, she realized that on some level she had begun to trust him. Her chest ached beneath her breast and she rubbed it, breathing in short, distressed pants. "What even am I to you? A trophy?" she spat.

He didn't respond.

"Say something!"

Soul hunched over further, elbows propped on his knees as his hands rose to fist in his hair. When his shoulders began to shake, she at first she thought he may have been crying, but the dry chuckles reverberated from his back and she realized with horror that he was laughing.

She felt sick as she stared at him, his laughter making the hurt all the worse. "Is this funny to you?" she breathed, incredulous.

He straightened in a quick jerk, leaning back in his chair as his hands unclenched to run through his hair in a frustrated motion. He gripped the strands at the base of his neck and his eyes met hers with a hard stare. "No. I don't. It is however, _horribly ironic_ that I haven't even begun to explain the shit I need to and yet you're already primed to blow my head off."

Her eyes flashed. "So it's _my _fault?"

"Yes!" he snapped, sighed, then, "No."

She watched him with furrowed brows, fingers curling tightly around the blanket covering her legs. "What are you even talking about?"

His hands fell into his lap and he exhaled sharply in frustration. He studied her awhile, his hair a complete mess, before asking her, "How long do you think you've been here, in this room?"

Caught off guard, she answered instantly. "A night - maybe a day at the most."

His next words were quiet. "You've been here nearly a month."

Maka froze, and Soul continued before she could speak. His words came out in short bursts, like he wanted to get the conversation over with. "One time, as I was watching you walk away from me, I received a city-wide announcement in my brain. The information... it spurred the decision for me to take you."

"What?" she said. "What information could possibly make you want to _kidnap me_? Do you know how crazy this sounds?"

"Let me finish!" he hissed, hands held out to silence her. "This isn't easy to say and I just want to get it over with!" He took a shaky breath when her lips remained pressed in a thin line and continued. "For the next two months I collected the items I needed to keep you safely asleep for approximately four to six weeks: intravenous fluid that both fed and sedated you, bedding, water, medical equipment. Two days before I was planning to take you, you came looking for me. I decided to push things along... so to speak."

"And by 'push things along' you mean letting a bomb drop on my head," she deadpanned.

"Something like that," he replied, smiling at her words wryly. "The problem was, as soon as we entered the hot zone, I regretted my decision. I felt fear and guilt for the first time in ten years and, though I tried to protect you, I failed. The instant your blood touched my skin, the blocks implanted in my brain to stop me from experiencing emotion were destroyed."

She lifted her head and looked at him, not sure she'd heard right. "You feel?"

He nodded, clearing his throat quietly.

She watched him in growing awe and felt her heart pound rapidly against her ribcage. Soul's eyes flickered to her chest and she flushed when she realized he could probably hear it. Embarrassed, she quickly asked, "So... blocks? That's why you couldn't feel?"

Another nod. "They release an electric charge every time an emotion is incited, negating the sensation. I never even realized they were there until I began researching the procedure."

Maka pressed her palm to her forehead as she processed his words.

"Are you okay?"

She looked back up at him with wide eyes as her hand fell back to her side. "Yeah... I just need to think for a second. It's a lot to take in." For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something anyway, but he shut his mouth and nodded jerkily.

Maka stared down at her lap, not knowing what to feel. She knew she was confused and frustrated because, in many ways, the things he'd said had ultimately provided her with more questions than answers. As for everything else... relief, maybe? Happiness, certainly, that he could finally return the (admittedly unhealthy) feelings she'd secretly harboured for the sociopathic iron man. She wondered if all the shit he'd pulled was negated now that he had a conscience. There was also guilt, rising at the elation she felt despite the untold worry she must have caused all of her friends. After a month, they probably thought she was dead. Her eyes rose to meet Soul's when a thought occurred to her. "You said your emotions returned to you after the explosion."

His returning stare was unwavering. "That's right."

"Then why is it that you followed through with your plan to keep me here? Wouldn't your conscience have stopped you despite whatever twisted reasons you'd had initially?"

He shook his head. "The reason was still applicable."

"What reason could possible justify keeping me unconscious for a month?"

Rather than answering, he rose from his chair and walked across the room to a small dresser. He pulled out a small pile of clothes, walked back, and dumped them in her lap. "Why don't I show you?"

She examined the clothes, realizing they were the ones she'd worn the day she had gone looking for him. Her fingers brushed a blood stain on the collar that appeared to have been scrubbed at repeatedly. She looked up at Soul who was staring grimly at the pile in her lap.

"Show me what?"

* * *

The morning air was cool and damp as they left the small house. "It won't be too far," Soul said, holding the door open for her. Maka squinted, still not used to the light. Even the dull gleam of the sun shining through the thick smog was too bright for her.

She hooked the straps of her backpack over her shoulders and followed after him, scythe in hand. He'd told her she wouldn't need the bag where they were going, but when she'd just stared at him blankly he muttered a resigned "whatever" and let her do as she pleased. He'd also refused to reveal their destination, though the faint grimace on his lips told her she wouldn't like whatever it was they'd find there.

Half an hour passed with little consequence. The small homes lined neatly along the roads were eventually replaced with the remains of larger buildings, fluttering bits of garbage strewn amongst the wreckage.

"AAARRRRGGGHHH!"

Soul immediately grabbed Maka's elbow and pulled her jerkily from the road to hide behind a pile of debris. Maka peered over Soul's restraining arm and spotted a robot ripping apart a dead raccoon. His yells echoed throughout the streets. "Stupid! Useless! Brainless!"

"What's wrong with him?" Maka asked in a whisper.

Soul's voice was also lowered when he replied, eyes not leaving the twitching automaton. "When we're changed from humans into robots, quite a bit of work is done to the brain. When his was being re-wired something must have gone wrong - the block meant for anger was probably implanted incorrectly. The brain is a very complex, very sensitive organ and easily damaged when tampered with. Many with similar issues will appear fully functional until a trigger sets them off. It's not a usual occurrence, but it is by no means uncommon," he explained, then paused when he noticed her stare. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Maka quickly turned away. "No reason."

He gave her an odd look, but returned his attention to the other robot. "I'd rather avoid violence if possible. Come on, we'll go around to stay out of his sensors range."

"Do you know who that is? Who he was before, I mean," Maka asked once they'd walked a fair distance from the hysterical robot.

"I... no I don't think so." Soul kicked a rock out of his way roughly. "Honestly, I try not to think about it. For the past month I've been tormented by memories of the last ten years of my life and I'm at the point where I just want to hide away and forget this shit ever happened." He smiled dryly when he looked over at her. "But that isn't what you asked, was it?"

Seeing Soul act so despondent was as depressing as it was unnerving. So, with a smile she hoped didn't look as forced as it felt, she patted him companionably on the shoulder and said flippantly, "Hey, you want to rant? Be my guest. I'm used to complainers - my dad was the reigning champ."

She knew immediately that her pathetic attempt at cheering him up had failed (not that she'd had much hope in the first place). His small responding smile, at least, told her he appreciated the gesture.

"Will you tell me where we're going yet?" she asked, more to change the subject than actual curiosity.

"No need. We're here."

Surprised, Maka looked up, not realizing until they'd passed the edge of a brick wall that they'd reached one of the entrances into the caves. It was one she'd rarely used, likely why she hadn't noticed their location sooner. Turning to Soul, she saw him staring blankly at the metal sheet they used as a door. Just like that, the companionable mood vanished.

"You... know about this?" she asked hesitantly.

"The existence and location of your 'caves' has never been a secret, Maka. They've always known you were here, probably knew even before you did. You could say they were the ones that corralled you into them."

Apprehension rose in great waves and Maka took a weary step back. Soul's head instantly turned to face her, eyes zeroing in on the movement before darting back up to her face. His red stare was calculating as his irises slowly began to rotate. Swallowing, she asked, "Why do you keep saying 'they' like you're not one of them?"

"Because I'm not."

"No." She shook her head. "Despite what you may have been before, you're still a robot. You said so yourself that you fought against us!"

Soul moved closer to her, his steps languid. "You all think it was the robots that destroyed your world," he intoned. "Even with the knowledge of what I am, you continue to believe in your so called 'robot wars'. You are blind to your ignorance. It was never the robots, Maka - there was no war. It was an experiment. It is _still _an experiment."

She'd backed into the wall behind her as his words hit like bullets in her chest. The condensation from the morning dew soaked into her sweater and the sensation helped to keep her grounded. "I don't know what you're saying," the words came out breathless.

He crossed his arms and titled his head. His next words would have sounded cruel had she not seen the stark pain in his eyes. "Shouldn't you be checking up on your friends, Maka?"

Maka's heart beat rapidly at the poorly concealed pity on his face. Not pausing to ask what he meant, she simply ran into the caves. She didn't remember opening the make-shift door or running down the endless flight of stairs. She didn't remember unlocking the latches at the gate or sprinting frantically down the halls passed the old ticket stands. What she remembered was the emptiness - walking through each room to find the same nothingness that had been in the last.

They were all gone. Every child, every man, every woman. Her friends.

She turned to Soul in a lost daze, tears brimming at the edges of her eyes. He had followed her into the caverns and now stood a short distance away. His shoulders were hunched, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he stared blankly at the vacant seats of the common room. When he was like this, she could almost imagine what he had been like before the war - stubborn, dependable, probably cocky and petulant at times... Her eyes closed, pushing the tears out her eyes and down her cheeks.

"Tell me..." she pleaded.

He spoke with revulsion - yet his tone remained distracted, as though he was reliving the past. "It was never a robot army that had come to destroy mankind. What we fought all those years ago was a neatly choreographed brigade compiled of humans given robotic implants and features - created for the purpose of an experiment conducted on the basis of their queer curiosity."

Her eyes slowly opened, yet the tears continued to fall. "'Their'?"

"They traveled from another planet to study our 'primitive behaviour' and refer to themselves only as _the scientists_. Wanting to observe humankind at war, they came up with the plan to create an alternate race for us to fight. They watched the plans we made, the men we gathered - every decision made during the battle preparations was monitored. They got bored fast and switched their attention to the families that were left behind, subsequently finding much more interesting material. They decided it was in their best interest to make the situation permanent."

Soul walked over and sat in one of the abandoned chairs. "They turned the entire human army into robots - we were experimented on, studied, dissected, taken apart. Their objective was to suppress what they felt were unnecessary human traits. Once they'd accomplished their goal, they let us go in order to measure their success and watched as a phenomenon they hadn't considered occurred. Slowly and without fail, the men and women always migrated towards their home towns and cities. When asked, the robots reported it as a random oddity."

Maka shakily pulled out a chair and sat beside him. "Was it?"

He shrugged. "Who knows. In any case, this was when they took a more concentrated look at the remaining humans. They've since grown fascinated by your will to survive, your unorthodox methods, your adaptability. They've spent years trying to understand something that has always been a staple in the history of mankind. Unfortunately, their time seems to be up."

"What do you mean?"

He looked at her. "You aren't the only group of survivors - there are thousands around the world that they have monitored religiously this past decade. Recently however, they have been systematically shutting each of them down - bringing in the humans to be changed. They're leaving earth and in exchange for the information we've provided, they are advancing our species."

Her stomach dropped. "Advancing our species..."

"Their goal is to have completely converted every human on earth before they leave."

"They think they're doing us a favour," Maka realized. "Like some morbid going away gift." Her hand went up to her forehead in shock. "How do you even know all this?"

"They implant a... feed in our brains that allows us to access and share information from any electronic file around the world. What I've told you is neither privileged nor confidential. It is available to those who wish to find it - most don't simply because they don't contain the emotional capacity to care."

"And... the information you got three months ago, when you made the decision to kidnap me, was it that our caves were going to be... _shut down_?"

Soul nodded, not looking at her. "I didn't want you to be taken away. I considered you my possession at the time and I didn't...," he gritted his teeth. "I didn't want you to lose your warmth."

Sick of watching him struggle with his own self-loathing, Maka prompted. "And after? When you had your emotions returned. Why did you follow through with the plan?"

He turned to her. "I didn't want you to have to go through that. The thought of you in those labs terrifies me. If you knew what was happening to your home you would have done everything in your power to fight it - and they would have taken you."

They were quiet for several moments after that, simply sitting beside each other in somber silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Maka that finally broke it. "You have to help me get them back."

He known this would happen, but still found himself slowly exhaling out his nose in a try for patience. "Try to think logically. They're being kept in laboratories with the highest sophistication of security," he told her. "It's nearly impossible to get it _in_, let alone get people out. Accept that there is nothing either of us can do to help them. Their numbers were up the second the aliens found them."

"What about Whitestar?" she blurted.

He froze in place. "What did you just say?"

"Your friend Whitestar - he has a brother. He was here, he was taken."

Soul furrowed his brows. "How do you know about Whitestar?"

"His brother, Blackstar, talks to me sometimes about him. When we were looking for Whitstar in an old album, you were standing next to him."

"Jesus," he swore. When his eyes shot to hers, they were disbelieving. "You're actually friends with that idiot?"

"What?"

"Blackstar - wierdo with blue hair - you're his friend?"

"Yeah, so?" she returned, defensive for some reason.

"He is the most annoying person I've ever met in my life."

"And so he deserves to be experimented on in a lab?" she shot back.

He glared. "Don't twist my words."

She reached over and grabbed his hand. Surprised, Soul jumped at the contact. "Will you help me or not?"

His eyes rose to hers. Slightly disconcerted by her gesture, he was no less determined when he said, "Not when helping them results in your capture."

* * *

A/N: By the way, it has come to my attention that Whitestar was actually Blackstar's _father_. Whoops.

Sorry if the chapter was kind of dull, but it's the one that sets up the rest of the story so it had to have a lot of dry explanations. If there are any mistakes, I would be very appreciative if you pointed them out (it seems they only ever appear _after_ the chapter is posted...). Also, I'm really excited for the next chapter, hopefully you guys will like it.

Cheers!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Arms folded and legs crossed lazily in front of him, Soul allowed his eyes to wander over the caves Maka had called home for so many years. Created from underground subway stations that the government had modified, the caves were initially meant to act as a temporary stronghold for survivors - temporary being the operative word. The cold, prison-like stations weren't suitable housing for 200 plus people to spend over a decade of their lives. Looking around him though, Soul concluded that they'd certainly made the best of their situation. The outer walls and exposed railway tracks were crammed with well used (yet comfortable) couches, futons and cushions while creaking bookshelves overflowed with salvaged kids games, knick-knacks, worn novels, and old board games.

Still, he thought with a pang of guilt, it was no way to live.

A harsh scraping entered his ears and he looked over to the young women angrily sharpening her scythe. After he'd refused to help her with her suicide mission, she'd stormed off in a huff to one of the dusty couches lining the hallway facing the tracks. He almost smiled, but the constant memories weighing in his mind acted like vindictive anchors on the edges of his lips and he was frowning before he could help himself.

It was in these instances - when they had no destination, no matters to discuss - that he didn't know how to handle her. Their past intimacies confused him, because no matter how clear his memories, he always felt that the man participating in them was a stranger. Someone he didn't like, and someone who certainly didn't deserve Maka. In ways, he was angry with her for allowing their association to continue - one which in the end had very nearly killed her.

He'd thought about this a lot, particularly while sitting next to her bed, staring at her bruised and cut up face as she slept. The memories he had of them together would cloud in his mind, and he'd remember all the shit he use to do to her, the ways he'd threatened her. It made him physically ill to think of it, and the guilt ate at him from the inside. It was also at these times that he'd remember the desperation often conveyed in her touch - not for him, he knew, but for what? Change? Fun? _Love_? He didn't like not knowing, but he told himself it didn't matter. He'd already decided their relationship would be a platonic one moving foreword. It was best for both of them.

Despite whatever bemusement their relationship brought him, there was clarity in the knowledge that he cared for her. Perhaps, in some ways, he had even when he'd been without emotion. It _was_ Maka, after all, that had destroyed the emotional barricades within his mind.

In return, he would stay with her as long as she'd let him.

He acknowledged that in many ways, this oath was self-serving. It provided a purpose in his life, stability in his confused and uncertain existence - just as her very presence grounded him when his memories threatened to pull him into the recesses of his mind. As far as he was concerned, her well-being was paramount to his own. She considered him a bastard for keeping her from helping her friends - she didn't know that to ensure her safety, he would do far worse.

And keeping her safe, he reminded himself, started with securing their location.

Sitting up, Soul purposefully placed his palms on the lunch table in front of him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled - willing himself to lose the sensations of the hard chair he sat on, the smell of the stale air, and the coldness in his body. As the physical left him bit by bit, he willed his mind to open.

Lights flashed brightly behind his lids as his subconscious entered the archives. His mind's eye opened and he took in the cool, blue expanse of the digital archives - a beautiful and horrible gift to humankind. Beautiful because of its meticulous construct, its efficiency, its beguiling aesthetics - horrible because of the price it'd cost them all.

He stood on the surface of a never ending sea, one filled with waters containing several lifetimes worth of information. A psychic wind brushed his face, a satirical breeze programmed into the archives meant to entice his senses. He'd spent much of his time here during the month he'd watched over his sleeping charge. He knew how easy it was to get lost in the morbid beauty of it all.

For the purpose of his cause, however, he ignored the allure and concentrated on his task.

As he'd done countless times before, Soul knelt down and pressed his fingers into the thick liquid beneath him, pushing until his hand was fully immersed in the cool substance. _Deathcity caves, _he projected into the depths. He was given an immediate response as files brushed against his mind. _...bombs used to corral subjects...specimens successfully gassed...subjects retrieved...minor difficulty obtaining certain individuals..._

He impatiently blocked the flow of information and specified his search. _Deathcity caves - monitoring equipment locations_. Several documents fell away from the heap he held and the remaining files restarted the process of systematically brushing against his mind.

_...South-East cavern - ten cameras, two recorders..._

_...North-West cavern - five cameras, one recorder..._

Locations continued for the rest of the rooms and Soul took careful note of each of them, siphoning the information into a separate compartment of his brain for easy access later. Having obtained everything he needed, Soul let the remaining files float away from him and retracted his hand from the psychic waters. His task complete, he forced his mind to return to awareness.

His eyes opened and he set to work.

* * *

With a harsh _thud_ that made her jump, Soul dropped an old cardboard box filled with smashed electronic equipment in front of her. She looked from it to him, confused. "This should be all of it," he said, more to himself than to her. For the past hour and a half he'd been finding and dismantling every device planted inside and around the caves. Most of them were located in dark corners or shoved into tight crevices, the more creative hiding places included: beside cradles, within toys, under stoves, behind worn shoes, and even attached to the back of old advertisement signs.

Maka lowered the book she'd been trying (and admittedly failing) to read. "What is it?"

"The equipment they used to spy on you with."

Shocked, Maka turned back to the pile with new interest. It looked like old technology - regular security cameras that had already been in the station since before she'd arrived. When she picked out a broken recorder though, she noticed the sophistication immediately. The outside was still plain, like something she'd seen once in a vintage spy movie, however the exposed inside was almost organic in its construct. Even if they had found any of the hidden equipment, they wouldn't even have given it a second thought. She looked up at Soul and muttered bitterly, "You know, when you said they were monitoring us, I didn't think you meant it quite so literally."

Her only response was an inscrutable shrug before he moved across from her to an old futon. He seemed tired as he sat down, his head dropping back against the wall behind him in a faint thud, lost once more in his seemingly never ending thoughts.

She dropped the broken device back into the pile. "What will happen to them?"

Several moments passed in tense silence, almost as if he was trying to convince himself she hadn't spoken. "Happen to who?" he asked finally, though he must have known.

"Who do you think?"

Soul's eyes shut and he rubbed his face wearily. "I don't think," he told her calmly, "that it's something you should hear."

Her stare was hard. "I deserve to know what's happening to the friends you want me to abandon."

His hand dropped away from his face and he looked at her blankly. _Fine_, he thought, suddenly vindictive. He leaned slowly foreword, knowing what his words would do to her but deciding to say them anyway - maybe because he was still mad at her for constantly disregarding her own safety. The truth would put things in perspective for her.

His voice was hollow when he spoke, and his eyes were colder than she'd ever seen them. "When you first arrive they put you in a cell with all your friends. They feed you just enough to survive and tell you nothing at all. One by one the people you love are taken away - they won't tell you where they go no matter how much you plead and they never return no matter how much you wish it. You don't sleep with worry and fear, resentment and trepidation; not until it's your turn to be taken. When they do come for you, there is almost relief in the knowledge that the wait is over, that whatever will happen will happen and it is out of your hands." His eyes shimmered with mounting anger, irises rotating as he whispered, "But the relief doesn't last long."

Maka swallowed nervously and for a moment considered asking him to stop. She didn't simply because of the visceral knowledge that he needed to tell her almost as much as she needed to hear it. So she watched as he peeled back his memories bit by agonizing bit.

"The sedation is just enough that you are aware of what is happening but you can do nothing about it. You feel no pain, are allowed no movement, experience no sensation - just the knowledge of an utter and complete violation." He swallowed, no longer able to look at her. "They begin with the skin, peeling it off to put it in a strengthening solution. Organs, including the eyes, are removed next and enhanced with pumps, metal, chemical hormones, and preserved with the skin. Muscle and fat is removed from the nerves, which are removed along with the brain from the skeleton. The bones are reinforced with titanium and reset with wires and gears to functions with greater efficiency. The brain is dissected and the areas known to react in tandem with emotion are purposely crippled with electronic blocks. And then," he sighed shakily, fingers clenching, teeth gritting, "we are put back together like some morbid jigsaw puzzle stuffed with wires and gears. Sensation returns but we no longer have the capacity to care - we live for the sake of living. Wondering endlessly, searching for a purpose we can't know we want. For some, they never find it. For others..." his gaze rose to Maka's and when he saw the tears in her eyes the anger drained out of him. He cleared his throat and continued, "for others they are doomed to slowly destroy the purposes they do find."

Carefully setting her novel aside and standing shakily, Maka walked over to Soul's futon. Her hands clasped together anxiously as she stared down at him, at a loss for how to comfort him. After a brief back and forth in her mind, she finally settled on awkwardly sitting down next to him, scooting closer till only a few inches separated them. Soul stared blankly ahead as the silence stretched on for several minutes.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," she whispered after awhile, figuring she should say something.

"It's fine," was his soft reply.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Maka reached over blindly and took his hand in hers. When he tried to pull away, she stubbornly squeezed his fingers, her cheeks and ears flushed red. Not wanting to fight with her, Soul reluctantly allowed the contact (much to her relief). Her head rolled down to lay against his shoulder, noticing belatedly the thin silver scars that lined his skin.

"I'm sorry," she reiterated more firmly.

While he had to fight the inclination to stiffen when her words brushed against his collar bone, he found the gentle weight of her leaning against him strangely comforting. Ignoring the warning bells in his mind telling him it was a bad idea, he twisted his hand from her grip and laced their fingers together. _Platonically_. "Thanks."

Maka nodded, heart beating unsteadily in her chest when her eyes darted to their hands. "Can you tell me about your life before the war?" she asked to fill the tense silence.

Soul shifted uncomfortably. "What do you want to know?"

"Blackstar told me you were a quiet person."

"_Him_ again," he muttered petulantly before explaining in an exasperated tone, "He thought everyone was quiet because he wouldn't shut up long enough for anyone to get a word in."

"So you weren't quiet?"

"Not by normal standards."

She nodded, considering. "Okay then... so what did you do for a living?"

"I was a manager at a music shop."

"Pets?"

"I think my apartment had mice."

She smiled. "School?"

"No money."

"How old were you?"

"I was twenty-six when I enlisted."

Maka jerked away to gawk at him. "You're _thirty-six_ years old?"

He frowned at her. "So? It isn't like I've aged physically."

It was true too, he was nearly identical to his old photo. Still... "You're fifteen years older then me."

"You're 21?" When she nodded, he sighed in relief. "Thank god, I was scared you were seventeen or eighteen."

"I do not look seventeen!" she screeched.

"You wore pigtails when I met you," he reminded, his tone lightening for the first time, "what was I supposed to think?"

"You - _ughh_!" When he snickered, she decided she was done with this particular topic, letting her head fall back against him with a miffed grunt.

The silence stretched briefly without a word and because she didn't want their conversation to end, asked hopefully, "Is there anything else?"

"...I played the piano."

Maka lifted her head to stare up at him with wide eyes. "What? Really?"

He smiled wryly at her enthusiasm. "Mhm."

"You have to show me," she breathed, looking away as though lost a moment in her thoughts. Her eyes returned to him in wonder. "Right now. Let's go."

He frowned at her in confusion, watching as she pushed off from the futon. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," Maka urged, pulling him up by their still connected fingers when he was too slow for her liking. Before he could say a word, she was leading him with determined strides towards the tracks. She grinned brightly over her shoulder. "We have a piano!"

"You have a piano?" he repeated skeptically as they turned a corner, untangling their fingers so he could stuff his hands into his pockets. He followed her the rest of the way down a short corridor till they stopped at a rusted door. Maka jerked it open with a sharp scraping noise till there was a gap big enough for both of them to slide through. "The door gets stuck so it's a bit of a tight fit," she warned, turning just in time to see Soul wordlessly wrench the door the rest of the way open. He shot her a grin full of jagged teeth and motioned her foreword with a hand.

"...Or you can just do that," Maka muttered under her breath, walking ahead of him into the room. She slid her hands along the wall till they brushed against the light switch. Flipping them on, she squinted as they blinked to life and moved to the shelf in the far corner.

Soul stepped in behind her, looking around what appeared to be an old storage room. It looked like it was mostly junk: old pots and pans, broken weapons, empty jars, magazines, books, _endless_ cardboard boxes, it even had a bike in the corner with a bent wheel. His eyes soon wandered over the crouched form of Maka, who was busy tugging a long, flat cardboard box out from underneath a giant, heavy, _swaying_ pile of stacked crates. Soul felt his eye twitch.

"I think it's technically a keyboard, but they're pretty much the same thing," Maka told him absently when he came over to stabilize the small mountain looming above her.

He stared down at her, incredulous. "I can't believe you just said that."

Maka ignored him, grunting as she finally pulled the box free with one last tug. As Soul caught the tipping tower of crates with a sharp curse, Maka pushed the box into the middle of the room. Lifting the top, she beamed.

"You must have _sucked_ at Jenga," Soul said flatly when he joined her, dusting his hands off on his pants.

Maka turned to him with a wistful smile. "There was an old man who used to play this when we first came here. Every night for three years." Her eyes returned to the keyboard and her fingers touched a key. Soul didn't need to ask what happened to him. "No one else knew how to play, at least not like he did. After a while we needed to clear space so we moved it here."

Maka reached inside and picked up the instrument. "The built in stand was pulled out to make a table," she explained. "So I guess this will have to do." Maka carefully placed the keyboard on the ground in front of Soul, nudging it till the centre was facing him. She pulled out the cord and crawled to an outlet in the nearest wall, plugged it in, and scurried back.

When she was once again settled, her eyes darted between him and the instrument expectantly. "Will you play?"

He watched her silently before his eyes moved to the keyboard. He raised a hand and allowed his index finger to lightly brush against one key. Old doubts returned instantly, like it had been only yesterday that he'd ruined his career through his brash and "dreadfully manic" (as his father would say) music. "I'm not very good," he told her absently, almost out of habit. Even as the words left his lips though, his fingers were already hovering above the keyboard - driven by a painful yearning he hadn't known he'd harboured till now.

"I don't care. Just please play," she pressed, impatient.

He looked at her one last time, expression inscrutable. Then he began to play.

It started off slow, _painfully_ slow even, and Maka began to wonder if he really was as bad as he'd been implying - but then it changed, grew darker and twisted. It became faster, and faster, and faster. Louder, and louder, and louder. It reverberated around the room in a manic tempo that pounded with the beat of her heart, and with a final note it stopped. A single beat of silence passed and he was playing again, the notes as he entered into his interlude fanciful and charming, but they soon too began to grow twisted. Their enticing quality turned leering, as the notes jumbled together in choreographed disorder that was as beautiful as it was unnerving. She didn't know quite how long he played for, but she knew she was entranced the entire time. When he stopped, it was with the same painfully slow tempo as when he'd began.

His eyes lifted from the keys to meet hers, and she was witness to the last few rotations of his spinning irises. He seemed nervous somehow, unsure of her reaction.

"Wow. The old man never played like that," Maka joked breathlessly, the words forced out when the right ones evaded her. "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star was a crowd favourite if I remember."

His stare never wavered, eyes continuing to wander over her face pensively in an attempt to gauge a reaction.

She swallowed, trying again. "But you... I don't even know what to say, Soul. It was... beautiful. Riveting. I've never been so entranced listening to music before," her hands moved around her restlessly as she tried and failed to accurately explain to him the emotions his playing had brought her. She gave up and simply looked at him in bafflement. "Do you truly not know how good you are?"

Soul didn't reply, but he seemed satisfied as he brushed his dust covered fingers against his shirt. He carefully put the instrument back into its case, tugging the plug from the outlet and stuffing it back in the box as well.

"Thank you," she told him earnestly.

He sat back and smiled at her. "Imagine how much better I'd sound on an actual piano."

She laughed softly, bashful as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Her expression sobered as her thoughts returned inevitably to her friends. She raised her head to find Soul staring back at her intently, likely having guessed the direction of her thoughts. "You know I'm still going after them," she told him quietly.

"I know you'll try."

At an impasse, the two sat together in uneasy silence.

* * *

Maka sat on a city bench staring at the pink heels she wore, fancy ones that didn't have any scuff marks or tears. She looked beside her to find Soul sitting next to her in a suit and tie looking bored. Between them was a melting and uneaten sundae with two spoons.

They were on a date.

Maka tried to remember what people did on dates but whatever minimal information she'd gathered on the subject from romance novels was evading her. She needed to 'woo him with her feminine wiles' like the cook had done in all her reminiscent stories she told at dinner. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance as she sifted through possible conversation topics. "What do people do on dates?" she asked him.

Soul turned to her, his expression calm and assessing.

"Soul?" He continued to stare at her blankly. "What do people do on dates?" she asked him again, because it was _very_ important that she know.

Rather than answering, his arm reached over behind the bench and he moved closer to her. His fingers brushed her cheek, stroking down her jaw till he cupped the nape of her neck underneath her hair. His eyes never left hers as he kissed her hard on the mouth.

When they broke apart, his thumb gently stroked her pulse as he whispered against her lips, "You've left them to rot."

Maka jerked out of his grip to stare into his calm eyes as the world around them burned black. Fires hissed around their bench, melting the sundae between them. The distant skyscrapers stretched into giant skeletons that loomed solemnly from above.

"Who?" she asked shakily, but she already knew.

"_Who do you think?_"

Maka jolted awake, gasping as she frantically pulled off the blanket that had tangled tightly around her legs. Her eyes took in the dark room around her, Soul lying motionless several feet away. After she'd eaten a small dinner of stale biscuits they had both decided to call it a night, physically and mentally tired after the days events. They were currently in the small room she'd shared with ten other girls.

Maka let her head fall into her hands as the tears formed in her eyes, falling freely down her cheeks.

She'd abandoned them. Because the robot she had a crush on told her to - the one who couldn't stand touching her without flinching. Her fingers tightened into trembling fists in her hair, the anger and hurt and guilt daggers in her heart.

Instincts drove her as she stood, grabbed the scythe beside her futon, and tripped out of the room. She didn't bother wiping away the tears, allowing the anger to override her other emotions. Her breathing was frantic, her eyes wild as she turned corners. She had to get them back. She didn't need Soul. Everything would return to the way it was. Everyone would be together again. Blackstar would still be annoying. Kidd would still organize his creamers. They'd all eat mushed up rat together. It would be the same. Everything would be okay.

_She had get them back._

Her steps grew faster and faster until she was running. They would be so scared. Her heart pounded in her chest as she told herself over and over that she'd get them back, until it became a mantra in her mind. Just as the stairs came into view she was suddenly pulled back by the back of her shirt.

Soul caught her as she slammed back against him. "And where the hell do you think you're going?" he hissed, helping her to her feet.

She immediately shot off again, ignoring the breathy curse from behind her. He grabbed her arm before she got too far, "Maka are you listening to-"

"I'm helping my friends!" she cried, hitting him with the blunt edge of her blade. He jolted back but kept his grip, growling as he said "You're pissing me off, Maka."

"Good!" she screeched at him, breathless, "you deserve it!"

"Calm down, you're going to hyperventilate," he warned, his free hand held in front of him in placating manner.

Maka screamed in anger, suddenly attacking him. Surprised, Soul barely had time to duck as the pole of her scythe swung lethally at his temple. Jumping back from a second assault by the blade end, he dove in and wrenched it away from her trembling fingers. Disarmed, she lunged at him and took to clawing frantically at his face with her nails. Fed up by this point, Soul wrestled her to the ground, careful to catch her gently by the nape before her head injury slammed into the ground. When her hands kept slapping his face though, he was forced to release her neck and push her hands above her head, holding them there.

"Tell me what's wrong," he demanded.

She couldn't get the tears to stop. "I betrayed them! I've left them there to rot - _for you_. Now they're going to die and it's _my fault_!"

He raised an eyebrow. "And you think running after them with bare-feet, wearing nothing but an old t-shirt is going to somehow help them?"

She didn't look at him, simply glared at a spot above his head. When he released her hands they instantly moved to hide her face.

Resigned, Soul sat back, watching as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. She had been fine earlier, he mused, happy even. "Didn't you tell me that you were still going after them, Maka?" he reminded her softly. "You never gave up on them."

He was once again ignored and, as he watched her, he realized with a sinking feeling something he'd always unconsciously known to be true. This same scenario would keep repeating, over and over till either she got passed him, or she was driven mad with grief. It was a cycle they'd be doomed to repeat until one of them gave in to the other. He would chain her to him to save her, and she'd break her bones trying to escape to save them.

Soul grasped her shoulder with his hand, dread coursing through him at what he was about to promise. At least this way, she had a chance.

"I'll help you get them back," he told her quietly.

* * *

A/N: Here's how it is: I have the next two chapters _roughly _written (both of which or close to 6,000 words), but I want to polish those up and write the eighth chapter before I post the sixth. This is just because the story keeps altering slightly and I'd rather keep it consistent rather than going back and changing a chapter I've already posted. I've given myself a hard deadline of about two weeks, in which I'll buckle down and try and sort out the main components of the story.

So next chapter: May, 25th

In the meantime TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Blackstar's palms and forehead pressed tightly against the glass wall of his cell as he glared ahead, quietly seething. The faceless _things_ in white coats had just taken away another whimpering boy who'd pissed himself when he was torn from the arms of his hysterical mother. Blackstar's endless shouting and explicit threats had done nothing and he'd been forced to watch helplessly as the boy clawed at the hands holding him in a useless attempt at freedom. Blackstar abruptly jerked back and punched the glass with an enraged scream, splitting his knuckles and spraying the white scrubs he wore with blood.

For the past three weeks he had been stuck in this fucking white room, locked in by a thick slab of glass. Similar cells ran all the way down the wide hallway - housing roughly five to six bodies each. It reminded him eerily of the cages that use to hold the lab rats in the biology room of his old elementary school. The thought left him sick as he quietly watched the people around him, both young and old, sitting together in tight clumps and shaking with a fear that had grown exponentially in the last several days. Several days in which people had begun to be collected. People who never returned.

The boy's mother collapsed to the ground with the weight of her grief, wailing brokenly into her hands.

Blackstar squeezed his eyes shut, teeth gritting as his mind traveled back.

There had been no warning when they came.

In the dead of night, a week following Maka's disappearance, a sickly sweet smoke had slowly filled the caves. He remembered waking up to see a menacing white blur hovering over the boy snoring next to him and, though he'd felt horribly sluggish at the time, immediately lunged at the intruder, tackling him to the ground and away from his roommate. He wasn't completely sure what happened next - his memory blurred by whatever drug had been in the air - but when he woke up, he was the only around him given his own cell.

There was a tap on the glass and Blackstar turned to see one of _them_ holding a bowl of mush and a spoon in its pasty hands. If they were robots, he mused, eyes traveling up and down the creature in loathing, they weren't like any he'd seen before. The thing behind the glass had a bulbous head with chalky white skin that peeled off sporadically in thick patches. It had no eyes, only two nostril holes above a small hole he assumed was its mouth (though it never moved when it spoke so he wasn't sure). As he watched, it scratched at its cheek with long fingers that curved with an extra joint.

"You have not eaten since you arrived. Will you choose to ingest a meal today?" The voice was muffled slightly by the glass, but legible.

Blackstar remained silent, his stare brooding.

"Do you perhaps not know that you require sustenance to survive?"

Blackstar fists clenched, blood dripping from his knuckles as he tilted his head. "Must have forgot."

"Understandable." The being nodded sympathetically, paused and said, "Your injury will need to be tended to. You are an unreasonably fragile species. I will put your meal by your bed for consumption upon your return."

As it spoke, Blackstar heard a faint click from behind him followed soon after by a loud, persistent hissing. Turning, he looked up to see plumes of white smoke slowly filling his cell from the vents in the ceiling. A gross sweetness invaded his nose and the room slowly began to sway. Growling, his head shot back around to face the asshole behind the glass. Whether he was a robot, working for them, or something else entirely - he didn't care.

He wasn't someone to toy with - to poke and prod when they pleased.

His palm slammed with a loud bang against the glass barrier as his eyes stared into the faceless mask of the being opposite him with lethal promise. His senses were fading and he fell hard to his knees, fingers sliding through the bloody smear in loud streaks as he dropped. Though his lids grew heavy and his muscles lax, his glaring eyes never strayed from his target.

It didn't matter who they were.

It didn't matter _what _they were.

He would kill them all the same.

Because he was greater than the gods.

With that last menacing promise resonating in his mind, Blackstar fell back, unconscious.

* * *

His eyes snapped open. He was on a bed. Someone was working on his hand. The door was open. A minimum of three bodies in the room.

Blackstar's leg shot up and he kneed the one stitching up his knuckles, the sound of snapping cartilage loud in the small space. The other two rushed towards him and he leapt off the bed, his bare feet landing nimbly onto the concrete. Eyes on his opponents, he lunged for the closest one and twisted its neck sharply one way then the next till he heard a satisfying crack. The second turned to run, but Blackstar grabbed its head and with a yell, rammed its face into the wall.

It all happened within five seconds.

As the adrenaline left his system, his skin chilled and his breathing became laboured. Growing dizzy, Blackstar stumbled over to the corner of the room and threw up the contents of his stomach. He continued to gag for awhile afterwards, his body not liking whatever they'd injected into him. He spat when his retching subsided and wiped his mouth on the end of his shirt before turning. His hands trembled and he had to use the wall as support to lift himself off the ground and reach the exit.

He fell through the open doorway and slammed into the wall opposite the room, groaning as he tried to regain his bearings. Pushing off, he dizzily scanned both ends of the hallway. Deciding one way was as good as the other, he picked up a walk, bare feet tapping quietly against the floor as he held a supportive hand against the wall. As the fuzziness of his brain abated and he managed not to bump into so many surfaces, he took in the long grey hallway. It almost looked like one of those military bases he'd seen in movies as a kid: concrete walls, metal doors, flickering lights.

The nausea and chills faded with each progressive step he took as the shit they'd given him finally began to leave his system. By this point he could support himself without using the wall as a crutch - his muscles having lost most of their sluggishness - and he picked up a slow run. Breathing also came easier, and he soon found himself shooting down the corridors in record time... sort of.

Just as things seemed to be turning up for him, Blackstar hit a fork in the path and skidded to a halt. Indecision once again plagued him, his head jerking left then right. "Shit, shit, shit, shit," he muttered under his breath as he turned to his left.

"...and so the neural pathways sent the signals meant for the blocked emotions to the one behind the faulty block. As a result the emotion reacts exponentially in place of the others."

"Fascinating."

Blackstar slammed down his heels and twisted back around, sprinting back the way he came. "_Shit, shit, shit, shit!_"

He rounded several corners, and nearly wept in relief when he spotted a rusted 'stairs' sign. Pushing through the door underneath it, Blackstar climbed the steps two at a time as they twisted upward. Three flights later and he pushed through the doors to a long, thin concrete hallway. He grinned when he spotted the door at the end with a small window that brightened the edges of the dark space with the the light of the sun. If he was a man prone to crying, tears would be spewing out his eyes right about now.

"HALT!"

Yeah. Sure thing, boss. Blackstar took off running down the hall, pulse spiking as he watched freedom grow closer. Fifty feet from his exit, the door unexpectedly creaked opened. Shocked, Blackstar nearly lost his footing as he watched a human silhouette fill the door. "Move!" he shouted, trying to make out the face of the figure blocking his exit. The head titled as he grew closer, allowing sunlight to illuminate her features.

Blackstar froze, unable to move as he stared in horror and awe at the person before him. "You - !"

Barbs shot into his neck and sent a paralyzing jolt through his body. A bellow of rage was wrenched from his lips as his knees gave way under the intense spams, barely catching himself before his head smashed into the ground. While he was still weak, hands hurriedly grabbed both his wrists and wrenched them behind his back and into what felt like handcuffs. When he was roughly lifted to his feet, his neck strained around in attempt to spot the figure he'd seen in the doorway - who had since disappeared. Despair ran through him, heavy and painful.

It barely registered in his mind when they dragged him back to his cell, his thoughts in a torrent over what - no, _who_ he'd just seen. Maka's words from a month ago entered his mind and his nerves chilled. He vaguely noticed when he was once more securely locked behind the barrier, his cuffs automatically unlatching to drop to the floor.

He stared numbly at the back wall.

A tap on the glass brought him to attention. "That was foolish. There is no need to be impatient, your time will come soon."

Turning to face him, Blackstar spat on the glass, right at the white pasty face behind it.

* * *

After Soul had carried the still half-hysterical Maka to bed, he walked silently into the main common room and began pacing, one hand running through his hair jerkily as he considered their situation carefully. He'd been adamant in his resolution to keep Maka away from the labs, but now that he'd foolishly jumped on the suicidal bandwagon, he would do everything in his power to accomplish their goal.

Their goal. Soul cringed, allowing himself to lament one last time the utter stupidity of what they were planning. The only thing he'd wanted to do since his emotions had resurfaced was keep Maka safe. This was as far away from 'safe' as she could possibly get.

Before all this, during the month that she'd slept, he had resolved to foil any plot she made to rescue her friends - even at the risk of losing her trust. What he hadn't counted on was the sheer, agonizing desperation in her eyes. He feared the lengths he knew that such a raw emotion would push her to. It was at that moment that, with a rush of trepidation that had left him physically ill, he'd realized how foolish he'd been. Even with all their past interactions being so... _specific _in nature, he'd always known how loyal she was.

It was a trait he admired, and one he wouldn't fault her for. Curse into the fiery pits of hell, yes; but he wouldn't fault her for it.

Soul walked over to a dusty couch near him and sat down, his head falling back against the musty cushions. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and concentrating on the sensations around him. When he finally released the air from his lungs, he allowed his conscious to leave with it.

The Archive welcomed him into its expanse.

Almost immediately he felt himself relax, the blue sea surrounding him a respite from the reality of his fucked up life. He dropped to his knees and submerged his hand into the psychic waters that supported him. _Deathcity survivors._

The information shot eagerly into his hand, the files forming a ball of twisting lights around his fingers. The files took turns brushing against his mind.

..._216 subjects obtained__... Location: Nevada Lab (No. 54938721)... __minor difficulty securing certain individuals... __55 persons expired in transport due to unexpected allergic reaction to sedative... __20 successful conversions... __43 casualties...__98 subjects pending conversion..._

Soul stopped the flow, allowing the data to slip back into the depths. He hesitated a moment before projecting his next search. _Nevada l__ab construction._

_...(No. 54938721)__... Military base converted in 1997... _An outline of the base and its floor plan brushed against his conscious and he carefully filed the images into a compartment in his mind to look over later.

Satisfied for the moment with what he'd collected, Soul went to pull out his hand but halted when a thought occurred to him. Apprehensive, Soul sent a third search into the abyss of information. _Maka Albarn_. A tense moment passed and nothing happened, but soon several files collected within his palm.

..._Deathcity survivor... collects food... carries scythe... considered missing in action... location unknown... _Soul pulled his hand out of the cool waters, nearly collapsing in relief. They didn't know. He'd kept her hidden. She was safe.

Of course, Soul thought, her anonymity wouldn't matter once she outed herself by running to her friends rescue. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face, deciding with that sobering thought that he'd had enough of the Archives.

He left the cool, blue setting and opened his eyes to the grungy caves that smelled like rat shit. And Maka. Standing right in front of him. In nothing but an over sized T-shirt. He looked up as she loomed over him.

"You're awfully close," he stated, eyeing her red nose and eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

Nodding, Maka reached over wordlessly to cup his face with quivering fingers. Her eyes were haunted as she stared down into his, yet burned with a fiery yearning at the same time. "Help me forget," she pleaded.

Before he could process her breathless words, she literally fell on top of him, mouth landing on his in a deep and urgent kiss. His eyes widened as her arms circled around his neck and he felt bad when a beached whale came to mind as she wiggled over him to get comfortable. She gained footing and pressed closer and kissed deeper and all thoughts of whales left Soul's mind as he groaned against her lips. His hands trailed up her sides and he gathered her to him - so close now that he could feel the fine tremors that coursed through her body.

For the most part he simply sat there, content to go along with whatever she wanted because it felt so good just to _hold her_. His lips lifted at the corners when she growled into his mouth, her hands fisting chunks of his hair and hugging him as hard as she could. He was still smiling when she broke off their kiss to breathe, hands pushing against his chest so she could see him. Looking at her as she panted above him, eyes lost and very nearly broken, he carefully reached up to comb her hair back from her face with his fingers. Affection hit him hard and unbidden.

Maka's eyes began to glisten, her fingers knotting in his shirt. Soul moved on instinct as he reached up and gently untangled her fists, bringing them up to wrap around his neck. She collapsed against his chest with little prompting, and he held her closely - fingers running through the ends of her hair.

"We'll get them back," he promised, eyes closing as he breathed her in. He felt it when she drifted off soon after, her body slumping completely against his own. In an afterthought, Soul pushed out her knees till her legs laid comfortably over his own rather than hiked up by his hips. She grunted faintly at his manipulations, but quickly settled back down.

She was soft and pliant in his arms, and so incredibly...

_Warm_.

The thought jolted him like a bucket of ice water and his hands shot away from her. Her soft breathing hitched a moment before returning to normal, the faint breeze once again brushing rhythmically against his neck._ What the hell was he thinking?_ Memories of the all deplorable ways he'd treated her ran through his mind and for once, he didn't try to repress them. They were a good reminder of the stupidity of his actions.

As carefully as he could, Soul slid out from under Maka, laying her flat along the couch. They were bad for each other, he told himself for the nth time. With one last look, he buried his hands in his pockets and walked away.

.  
.

Maka opened her eyes, watching his back as he retreated. She wanted so badly to call after him, but there was a limit to how much humiliation she could handle in a single night. Her eyes closed and her lips pinched together.

She knew he'd been reluctant to touch her, flinching away every time their skin accidentally brushed. She knew... but when she'd woken up, alone and worried in a her dark room, it didn't seem to matter when all she wanted to do was forget.

* * *

"Wake up."

A grunt.

"Maka. Wake up." A rolled up wad of paper smacked her on the forehead. Maka lifted her arm to shield her face and the shift of weight had her rolling off the edge of the lumpy couch, banging her elbow on the ground. Rubbing it, she glared up at Soul who glared back down.

Her cheeks instantly pinked and her scowl vanished when she remembered the events of the previous night.

Soul wisely chose to ignore her reaction. "You want to save your friends?" he asked, holding up the large rolled up sheet he'd hit her with.

She looked back up at him, her mind instantly forgetting her embarrassment and putting two and two together. "We have a plan?"

"Half a plan," he corrected, turning on his heel to walk over to one of the lunch tables. Maka quickly scrambled to her feet and followed, reaching him just as he was unrolling a hand drawn floor plan. It was a fairly large sheet, and the lines were drawn on in permanent marker.

Maka picked up the edge of the 'paper' sceptically. "Is this the bottom of a Twister mat?"

Soul's hands flattened on the table as he glowered at her. "I apologize, I couldn't find the _drafting room_. Maybe it was between the stacked rodent carcasses and the small mountain of moulded bread. Or better yet, perhaps you could find someone else to follow through with your fucked up suicide mission."

Taken aback, Maka simply looked at him. "It was just a question. Calm down."

Soul sighed and rubbed his jaw, struggling to keep his agitation buried. He didn't know where the sudden frustration had come from, but as soon as Maka woke up he'd had the urge to yell at her for every insignificant thing she did.

"This is the lab?" she asked, looking down at the drawing.

He nodded. "It's the design of the one holding your friends. A converted military base."

Her fingers traced a line with her finger. "How long do we have to save them?"

Soul was quiet a moment, not looking at her. "They've already started."

"What?"

He cleared his throat. "In total 63 people have gone through the operation."

"What?" she gasped, staring at him in horror. "But that means there are still over 150 people in the labs... 150 people we can save."

Soul didn't respond.

"We have to leave right now! I'll go get dressed and - "

"No!" Soul grabbed her when she tried to run passed him. Maka halted, looking from him to the hand gripping her upper arm. Noticing her gaze, he let go as though she burned him. He swallowed. "No. We'll leave tonight. When it's dark. It'll give me time to finalize the plan."

She nodded quietly, the hurt in her eyes a wrench in his gut as she shuffled passed him. Though he didn't want to, this time he let her.

"Fuck," he cursed silently after she'd rounded the corner. His hands ran through his hair in frustration. It occurred to him in the back of his mind that if he stayed too much longer with Maka, he wouldn't have any hair left.

It was for the best, he told himself. She was better off.

Turning back to the outline of the lab he'd drawn from the image in his mind, he considered all access points. Most importantly, they would need a safe way in and out of the building. They would also need to find a way to release the prisoners. If they were the same cells as when he'd been captured, the only way to exit was to lower the ten-inch thick glass wall that had kept them inclosed. His eyes found a room at the centre of the facility. The control centre would be their best bet.

He needed more information.

Closing his eyes, Soul entered the Archives.

He breathed in relief as quiet, still space surrounded him.

_Nevada Labs - Access points_, he projected when he'd pushed his hand into the 'waters'. Rather than a swarm of twisting white lights as he had expected, a single red beam floated toward him. He watched it with curiosity as it touched the very edge of his index finger.

**_!CLASSIFIED!_**

The message was accompanied by a loud psychic blast that pushed him out of the waters and left him clutching his head in pain. The ringing in his ear was paralyzing as it beat against the walls of his skull till he had to fight just to remain within the Archives. His eyes squinted open and he watched the small, fuzzy light gently float away beneath him. He'd never been restricted information before - why would he suddenly be cut off? He breathed heavily as the pain eased off.

When he was completely freed from the after effects of the mental bellow, Soul tried searching something basic. A topic off the top of his head. Completely random. Totally irrelevant. _What to do when a girl is mad at you._

A swarm of data files surrounded his hand and fought to touch his fingers ..._buy flowers... 5 positions guaranteed to lead to female orgasm... how to fulfill your girls sexual fantasies... penis enlargement..._

Soul cut off the information, dispersing the files with a flick of a finger. At least he knew that his access to general information wasn't restricted...

He tried again. _Nevada Labs - Cell construction._

As he watched, that familiar red glow drifted towards him again and he quickly retracted his hand before it could touch him. The ball of light bounced against the surface before floating innocently away.

"Shit," he hissed, standing up. This would complicate things. Without that information they would never get into the building, much less break anyone out. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his mouth as he imagined Maka's reaction. Maybe he should take a look at the penis enlargement file, he thought dryly. "Fuck."

When his eyes opened again, they met with the apathetic gaze of blue ones. He jumped.

A woman stood several feet from him, perfectly still as she waited for him to acknowledge her. Taken aback by the sudden appearance, he tilted his head and examined her. He was confused, not only because he had never seen anyone else within the Archives, but also because she was somehow eerily familiar to him.

He knew he'd seen her before, but the where and the when evaded him. He was about to ask her who she was when an image - no, a memory he realized, flashed into his brain. _Two people stand beside him in a tight embrace, kissing and laughing with each other. The woman blushes and smiles big as she shows her ring._

One of the two people featured in his memory was the woman staring back at him, the other...

His eyes widened and a name entered his mind. "Tsubaki."

Time seemed to physically stop as Soul stared at the curvy woman in front of him, not quite believing his eyes. Her returning gaze was dull and shuttered, the complete opposite of the warm, accepting look he was use to. She had always been gentle and kind, always smiling at those around her.

...Even as they dragged her away she'd smiled.

"I know you," she intoned.

An ache bloomed in his heart when she spoke so robotically, so unlike her.

"Yes," he confirmed, swallowing. "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes drifted to the waters beneath them, staring blankly into the abyss. "I don't know," she mused, as though she herself would very much like to know the answer. Her eyes moved lazily back to his. "I heard your searches."

"Oh..." He rubbed his neck, feeling flustered despite himself. "Of course you did."

She blinked slowly, face blank.

After an awkward silence (for him anyway), Soul dropped his hand and sighed. He levelled her with a stern look."What do you want, Tsubaki?"

"I think," she began, confusion twisting her face, "that I want to help you."

"What?" Not the answer he'd been expecting.

"You're planning to free the people held in the Nevada Labs? I want to help."

He frowned at her, and repeated, "_Why?_"

"I don't know," she said again, sounding literally like a broken record.

Which didn't help him. As he watched her standing there like some antique china doll, Soul inwardly battled between the happiness he felt at seeing her again and the suspicions he harboured in regards to her offer of help.

Hands on his hips, he asked her carefully. "How were you planning on helping?"

"I've been to the facility recently. I was contracted to clean the building and therefore have the codes necessary to enter the building."

He'd received similar offers to work for the scientists as well, mostly missions to attack and bomb humans or retrieve and dispose of faulty robots. They served as a temporary purpose that filled the void the robots didn't know they had. Perhaps he might have accepted more had he not recently found a plaything to chase around, he thought bitterly. "Those codes change daily, old codes are useless and would trigger an alarm."

"I also have access to the information you were searching for." For one embarrassing moment, he thought she was talking about the search he made about girls. He was staring at her in horror when she clarified, "The confidential information you were blocked from."

"Right," he said in relief. Her words suddenly clicked and he jolted. "Wait, really? How?"

"I took it from the control centre while I was cleaning it."

She was just full of surprises. "You stole it? Why?"

"I don't kno-"

Soul stuck up a hand to silence her when he realized he wouldn't get any answers from her that way. "Did something happen while you were at the facility?"

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Humour me."

She paused in thought. "The toilets were unusually dirty. The control centre wasn't as dusty. The mop had gone missing so I had to retrieved a knew one. A boy escaped from his cell. The soap-"

"Tell me about the boy who escaped," he interjected.

Tsubaki nodded obediently. "He was taken to the medical room to look after cuts on his hand. The sedative used on him wore off unusually quickly and he incapacitated the scientists and escaped. He was running to the roof exit when they caught him. And..."

When she didn't continued Soul prompted, "And?"

"And he was his brother. Whitestar's."

Soul cringed. God he hated that kid. At least now he knew why Tsubaki was offering to help, though her reasons were obviously unconscious. "So you came here because you were curious about Blackstar and wanted to learn about him. You're offering to help me because he reminds you of Whitestar."

Her gaze fell to the twisting lights beneath her. "Is that why?" she asked herself quietly, eyes soft and unsure.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"A small home close to the labs."

His eyes narrowed, mind working. "How close?"

* * *

Maka trudged along the worn tracks silently, the small lantern clenched in her fingers illuminating the dark tunnel. Every now and then she'd hold up the light to examine the graffiti riddled wall on her left before continuing down the twisting path. The careful scuttle of rats echoed from behind her as water slowly dripped from above. She shivered, the tunnel colder than she'd expected and the oversized trench coat she'd thrown over the t-shirt she slept in wasn't warm enough.

She lifted her lantern to the wall, lowered it and kept moving.

She stepped through puddles and over boulders, her shadow dancing behind her. She was careful to keep her mind blank, completely free of stupid robots and captured comrades. In the dark she felt calmer. She could pretend that she hadn't betrayed her friends and her principles, and that she wasn't pining for a robot who would rather stick hot pins in his eyes than touch her.

Not that she was thinking about it.

Once more, her lantern lifted. This time she smiled as it shone over a long, flat rock and set the light by her feet. She crouched down, not really caring if the tails of her coat got wet, and pushed the rock aside till it exposed a small hole in the cracked cement. Panting lightly from the exertion, she leaned down and pulled out an old plastic lunchbox. She moved so that she could sit back against the damp brick, bringing the lantern and the box with her.

Maka brushed away the excess dirt with gloved fingers, flicked up the latches and opened the lid. Within were the only treasures she'd allowed herself to have: her mother's wedding ring, a worn out detective novel given to her by her father, a pocketknife (which was actually Blackstar's, who had asked her to put it in only after making fun of her for the idea), and a small photo of her family.

There was also a new addition she'd never seen before. Picking out the picture gently, she examined the portrait of Blackstar's brother, who was groomed neatly and smiling into the camera. Blackstar must have put it in after she'd gone missing.

The picture dropped into the box again and her head fell back with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and covered her face, the leather of her gloves cool against her skin. Nothing would ever be the same. Even if - no, _when_ she got her friends back, things had forever changed. The rosy glass they'd been stuck behind had shattered, and reality was far crueler than they'd ever imagined.

But it didn't matter right now, she told herself, what was important was first bringing them back safely. They would argue logistics when everyone was home and safe.

Which Soul had promised to help her with.

When his name passed through her mind, waves of embarrassment flooded into her and she groaned into her hands. Like a needy idiot, she'd practically thrown herself at him the night before and he'd escaped as soon as he thought she was asleep. In hindsight she was probably lucky that the only repercussion of her actions was being treated like a leper - he could have just as easily skipped town on her.

_Tap...tap...tap..._

Maka's hands slowly lowered and her gaze darted cautiously to the direction the sound came form. They were footsteps, echoing quietly from around the tight corner to her left, far too light and nimble to belong to Soul. The hairs at the back of her neck lifted in warning, and the absence of her scythe made the nervous apprehension all the worse. Eyes never leaving the curved wall, she carefully set the lunchbox beside her and rose to her feet, jerkily grabbing the lantern as an after thought.

"Hello?" she called out into the darkness, knowing whoever it was already knew she was there.

A filthy hand appeared in the faint light, sliding along the grimy walls. Maka raised the lantern, squinting into the dark as she tried to make out the person in front of her. When a pale face stepped into the dim light, she had to swallow the sharp scream that rose at his appearance.

He had a hallow face, the lower half covered in a sparse, matted beard. His eyes were gaunt and feverish and his back hunched over his curled up, bony arms.

"I know you," she murmured. He was one of the survivors (Dennis?), though lately she had only ever saw him at meal teams, his greasy hair hanging down as he curled possessively over his plate. As children, they'd been told to stay away from him because he often watched the younger girls, his gaze intense with longing. The one time she'd ever talked to him was when he had cornered her in the storage room. Ball in her hand, she had stared in fear as he loomed over her, beckoning her closer - if Blackstar hadn't run in, kicked him in the shin, and pulled her away, she wasn't sure what would have happened.

"Yes." Dennis's voice was hoarse and squeaky, though his tone was eager as he stared.

"How did you escape?" she asked, watching him warily.

"Hid," he smiled proudly, showing thin, crooked teeth. His eyes brightened, "Have you come looking for me?"

She ignored him. "You didn't help the rest?"

"They don't help me."

Maka frowned at him. Everything about this person rubbed her the wrong way, and the look he was giving her sent warning bells through her brain. She took an experimental step back and watched his face crumble and his hands raise out as though he longed to touch her.

"No, don't leave! We just found each other. Stay."

The second retreating step she took was the catalyst, his face twisting with fanatical determination. "I won' let you go," he promised desperately. "Not, now, when your friend can't hit me anymore for staring."

He ran at her and lunged, knobby fingers outstretched towards her. When Maka moved to evade, her foot stepped in the hole beside her and she tripped, well in reach of his flaying arms. They fell to the ground together and her head smashed hard against the concrete, aggravating the wound already there. Her head rang as pain shot through her skull and, dizzy, she couldn't put up much of a fight as he straddled her waist and wrapped his claw-like fingers around her neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "but this is for the best, you'll see." He panted as he loomed above her, his greasy fringe brushing against her cheek as he squeezed her windpipe. "We'll be happy, I'll make you feel so good," he soothed as she struggled underneath him, fighting to breathe.

Her arms reached up desperately as her fingers strained to reach his neck, claw his face, _anything_ to loosen his hold. Her teeth gritted and an angry sound slipped passed her lips as her strength faded. The edges around her vision became dark, and the last thing she saw was the triumphant face of Dennis on top of her.

All thought left as her hand dropped lifelessly beside her.

* * *

A/N: This is the longest chapter (one-shots included) that I have ever posted on this website by 2,000 words. The next chapter is even longer.

Tell me what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Note: This chapter contains flashbacks. I haven't _italicized_ them because I personally find it annoying to read and so I separated the present/past with ellipsis (...) for the skimmers out there.

**ALSO, this chapter may be largely triggering to some people. Dubious consent sex scene.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Maka's eyes fluttered open as chills vibrated over her damp skin. Her body felt feverish and stiff, and her head hurt - a hard and constant thudding between her ears that had her senses ringing. Sweat beaded at her forehead and she groaned inaudibly, her muscles bone tired even as they shook in wracking tremors. When she tried to move her hands, they stuck at her sides, and she dizzily looked down to see them tied with thick ropes to the metal frame of an old bench. Confused, she looked around the dark, dimly lit room and somewhere in the back of her mind faintly recognized her surroundings as that of an abandoned railcar.

It was a mess, like an oversized rats nest with collections of garbage and useless junk strewn around the floor and up on the seats. Even worse was the smell, a sharp and pungent odour that stuck in her nose - some nauseating mix of urine and unwashed bodies. Her bleary eyes moved to the window and she saw her scratched up face staring back at her blankly, lit only by the dented lantern beside her. A quick glance down her reflection assured that all her clothes were intact, even the oversized t-shirt under her trench coat remained at a decent mid-thigh range.

Her eyes moved back to examine the cramped space. How had she gotten here? A flickering image in her mind - a memory - showed her the ugly, sunken mug of Dennis, the pervert that leered at little girls, looming giddily over her. He'd choked her, she remembered, his grimy hands eagerly wrapping around her neck and squeezing as hard as they could. She swallowed at the recollection, felt the telling soreness in her throat.

Her head lightly fell back, bumping against the headrest as she tiredly closed her eyes. The dizziness and lethargy kept her half conscious and she could feel herself steadily losing grip on the other half of her awareness.

Blood trailed down her nape hot and wet as, delirious and confused, her mind took her to another time when she was at the mercy of a dangerous person.

...

She had been eating lunch in an alley when the robot ambushed her, catching her unaware and unarmed. One moment she'd been innocently biting into a flaking pastry, the next she'd been forced at gun point to back up again the fence dividing the alley.

Gripping the chain links behind her with white knuckled fists, she glared vehemently at the android who stood several feet away pointing the gun at her forehead. Strangely, the robot was _trembling_ as he faced her, his eyes tormented in a way she'd never before seen on anyone not human. Even as she tried her best to appear as unaffected as possible, she couldn't stop her eyes from darting nervously to the weapon he held - shaking in his palm to the point that she believed she'd be shot by accident before he would ever get the chance to consciously pull the trigger. Her heart beat audibly in her chest, pounding with enough force against her ribs to steal her breath.

"I'm going to kill you, and the voices will stop," he told her, desperation in his voice as he aimed the gun at her head purposefully. Maka squeezed her eyes tightly shut, clenched her teeth and waited for the bullet.

The shot fired. She flinched.

When no pain registered, Maka hesitantly cracked her eyes open. The robot in front of her swayed on his feet - an eerie back and forth - before collapsing in a twitching heap to the cold ground. Confused, Maka looked beyond the felled body to find another robot, his hair white and his eyes red, staring calmly down at her attacker as the spasms slowly subsided into the stillness of death.

He stuck the gun in a holster at his hip and looked up at her.

"Thank you," she whispered dumbly before she thought better of it, relief having loosened her tongue.

He also seemed to think her response was strange because he stared at her silently for several beats before responding. "He was malfunctioning. The order was placed for his termination. I did not shoot him to save you."

As she watched, he bent down and grabbed the other robot by the collar. With a final glance at her, he walked out of the alley, dragging her assailant behind him.

...

The memory twisted in her hazy mind, warping at the edges until it disappeared and was replaced with the smug grin of her captor.

"So you're finally awake."

Maka blinked tiredly at him, squinting. She tugged weakly at her restraints but stopped when a wave of vertigo had her vision spinning. Head lolling foreword, Maka groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.

"No, no no. Look at me," he urged, grabbing a handful of her hair with his filthy fingers and pulling her head back to face him. She glared into his beady eyes. "I don't like it when you don't look at me."

His thumb brushed her cheek, smearing it with dirt, and his fetid breath blew against her face as he leaned in. "Don't worry, sweet. I'll take proper care of you," he promised her. "Even when you never gave me the chance to before."

Breathing heavily, his eyes lowered to her breasts and crushed one in his hand, squeezing lewdly with his fingers. "Thats nice," he moaned, and his eyes lifted to her lips. When he leaned in closer, Maka slammed her forehead into his nose. He shrieked, reeling back as he clutched his bleeding face. Unfortunately, Maka wasn't doing much better and, with a sudden wave of nausea, was forced to lean over so she could hurl the contents of her stomach on the ground beside her feet. The lantern on the seat next to her split into four and danced around her vision as cold sweat dripped off her brow.

She spat the remaining residue from her mouth and fell back against her seat in a haggard slump.

Dennis lowered his hand and, looking down at it, seemed shocked to find his fingers drenched in blood. Anger bloomed quickly from the surprise and his gaze jerked up to glare at her hatefully. She half registered a garbled threat passing his lips as he stormed out the rail car, hand cradling his nose as he went.

When he was out of sight, she stopped holding her head up and let it fall foreword. Her brain was fuzzy and stuffed painfully full from her impromptu head-butt (though thankfully the nausea seemed to have passed).

Not knowing what else to do, her mind lazily wandered back to the past of it's own accord.

...

When he found her the second time, she was sitting cross-legged in an alley going through her bag, examining the food she'd collected that day. His steps were casual and assured as he approached, ignoring her yelp of surprise when he crouched down before her.

"Hey," he smiled, wide and charming. With shark teeth.

She automatically moved to grab her scythe but realized with a start that he had stepped on the staff firmly when he sank to his haunches in front of her. She jerked her hand back and lifted her gaze to glare at him. "What do you want?"

"I saved you," he reminded her lightly. "You should be nicer to me."

"You said you shot him because you were ordered to," she retorted.

"I still saved you."

Not sure how to handle the blatantly teasing tone, so different from the day before, Maka decided it was safest just to ignore him and began organizing her stash again. As she pulled more items from her bag though, she couldn't help but feel hyper aware of his intense eyes boring into her.

He watched her sort quietly for a moment, his expression blank, before looking up and giving a sudden and blinding smile. "What's your name?"

Her hands halted and she looked at him in surprise. "What? Why would you want to know my name?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Several very good reasons came to mind, but they all seemed strangely irrelevant when he was watching her so intently. "I-I don't know." She cleared her throat awkwardly. What was the harm? "It's Maka."

He held out his hand. "Soul." When she hesitantly took it, he squeezed her palm firmly in his, holding on longer than perhaps was proper.

"Why are you like this?" she asked suspiciously when he'd finally let go of her hand.

"Like what?"

She struggled for words. "You act... different."

He reached over to her and took a stray lock of hair in his hand, rubbing the strands between his fingers absently, which of course caused blood to instantly flush into Maka's cheeks. "Do you not like it?"

"It's fine... I guess." She didn't really know what was happening - the ease with which she was talking to a _robot_ was surreal but, like she said, he was different. She had never seen a robot emote like he did, as if he could genuinely feel. "You didn't answer my first question."

He wrapped her hair around one finger, then finally released it, watching it flop back against her jaw. "And that was...?"

"Why are you here?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Did you?"

That sneaky, teasing smile again. "Maybe."

"I don't understand you," she admitted.

He only nodded, as though that was to be expected, and looked down at the small pile of food between them. "So, what do you have here?"

"Food," she said, blushing for some reason. "Uh, today wasn't a good day."

"Ah, probably opened nearly a hundred cupboards and you've hardly anything to show for it," he crooned sympathetically. "That must suck."

"Sometimes," she replied, the corner of her mouth twitching. When she dropped her gaze from the intensity of his, she remembered her scythe planted firmly beneath his boot. "Could you, uh...?" She stared pointedly at her weapon.

From the brief glimpses of his personality that she'd seen over the past several minutes, she'd assumed he'd apologize and immediately hand it over. When he didn't, she looked up to see the cold and emotionless expression he'd worn on their first meeting. A chill creeped up her spine as he looked down his nose at her with hard eyes. For several moments she felt like no more than a bug under his blank and damning stare, but then, like nothing had happened, his smile returned and his charm was back on full power.

"Of course," he said, stepping off the weapon and handing it over to her. "Wasn't even aware it was there."

Her hand wrapped around the pole and she took it from him, her eyes watching him warily. "Thanks."

With one final heart melting smirk, he stood up and calmly walked away.

* * *

Soul found her again a week later and, much like their first and second meetings, it came as a complete surprise to her.

She was busy looking through one of the lower apartments of a building located on the outside edges of the city, her search thus far fruitless. The bugs had been particularly nasty in this part of the building and she'd had to stop and pull spider webs out of her hair more times than she cared to think about. Plucking one of the said sticky strands off her shoulder, she opened a fridge to find it empty, closed the door to find him sitting innocently on the counter.

Maka jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Hi," he said, his eyes rotating with a smirk.

Hand on her chest, heart still racing from his unexpected appearance, she stared at him dumbly. Since his last 'visit' she'd come to her senses, reminding herself that he was the enemy and what the hell had she been thinking? What would her _mother_ think? He didn't even feel! These and other thoughts at the forefront of her mind, she had promised herself not to succumb to whatever Sou-_ the robot_ was plotting. The mental oath had at least steeled her spine if not her heart.

Maka cleared her throat. "What do you want?" she asked coolly .

She could tell he wasn't paying attention to her question, even if he was watching her in quiet contemplation. When her patience was beginning to grow thin, he hopped off the counter and strode up to her. She leaned back when he got too close, but he kept advancing with a single minded determination. Her back connected with an open cupboard and empty boxes fell around her. She was about to warn him off when his icy fingers slipped quickly and without warning underneath her clothes and pressed into the heated flesh of her belly. Maka flushed as he groaned.

Warmth circled in her abdomen - a contradiction underneath his cold fingers - and her heart quickened. "What are you doing?" she squeaked.

"I'm sorry," his lips whispered against her neck. "I can't help it. You're so soft and warm."

This was crazy. She knew this was crazy.

And yet...

_No!_

Maka quickly side stepped away from him, dislodging his hands from her skin but not the sensation they'd incited. She took two more steps back until he was far enough away that she could breathe normally. "Don't touch me," she warned, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt. "And don't come any closer!"

He stopped advancing at her words, eyes gauging her expression to decide whether or not he could push. He eventually smiled, so calm and unaffected that she wanted to punch him. "Can I come see you again?"

Her brows furrowed, slightly panicky. "What? Why?"

"Can I?"

No. No. _No_. "Yes," a breathless response she couldn't help.

His smile was sensual and beguiling and when he moved closer to her, this time she let him. His fingers lifted to lightly touch both sides of her face. She watched him watch her, kept watching as he moved in to lightly kiss her left cheek. His lips were cold and she shuttered beneath them.

And for the first time in ten years, she felt special.

It was _addicting_.

* * *

After that, he visited her nearly every day. He was always so charming, always flirty - his touches growing more intense and less fleeting as time went on. By the time he first kissed her, a month after he'd found her in that alley, she was sufficiently entangled.

It was her first kiss, and she knew it was coming and was breathless and giddy with anticipation.

His hands were gently cupping her cheeks and he was slowly closing the distance between them when she suddenly lost her patience and closed it herself. She grabbed the back of his head and eagerly smashed his face against hers, banging their teeth and squishing their noses. Soul jerked against her in surprise and sort of just stood there, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with her. Though she was thoroughly mortified by this point, Maka was still desperate to enjoy her first kiss and moved her mouth 'seductively' around like they described in romance novels. After several failed attempts at 'licking and biting sensually' she gave up and pulled back.

"You're certainly enthusiastic," he said when she nervously looked up at him.

She laughed sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ears, eyes on her feet and completely embarrassed. "Sorry. It was my first kiss. It wasn't very good, was it?"

She was cursing herself for ruining such an important moment when Soul wrapped his arms around her, one behind her neck and the other at her waist. She looked up at him curiously, "Wha-?"

He bent her head back over his arm and kissed her hard on the mouth. Maka's eyes widened but then she remembered standard kissing procedure and quickly closed them, trusting Soul as he tipped her back in his arms. The kiss was intense and satisfying, and she had to fight a giddy smile when their tongues touched.

They separated and Maka panted in his arms when he lifted her back to her feet. "Better?" he asked.

"Better," she laughed.

_I'd like to see you try and head butt me now..._

_..._

The words entered her ears from far away and by the time they finally registered, the scene was already fading from her mind. Maka desperately wanted to grab at the memory before it could diminish entirely, yearning for a time that felt so much simpler.

"There are going to be a few changes around here. From now on if you so much as look at me funny, _this_," he slapped the end of a cracked wooden bat against his palm, "is going straight for your skull. I figure we can always find a heater for your thighs if things turn a bit to messy. So, will you do what I tell yah, or will it be the bat?"

Maka couldn't help feeling strangely detached from the situation despite the potentially fatal threat directed at her, so she felt no compunction whatsoever when she responded by saying, quite calmly, "I'll take the bat."

He backhanded her hard across the face. "That was a warning, bitch," he grated, a knobby finger pointed in front of her face.

But Maka didn't hear the threat, any coherency she'd gained in the short time since she'd woken shot to hell as the pain from his blow stabbed into her skull in violent and excruciating waves. Her eyes water and she doubled over as far as her restraints would allow.

"Do I have to ask again? You won't like it if I have to-"

_Ting-a-ling-a-ling_

Dennis jolted on the spot and turned, eyes moving to a small bell hooked up to the top of the railcar door. "Someone tripped my wire?" he wondered aloud, incredulous. "Who?"

_Ting-a-ling-a-ling_

He seemed to grow nervous as his head swivelled back to her. "You said they were all gone! Who was with you?" he cried desperately, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "Tell me!" His adams apple bobbed widely and his eyes were large and worried.

_Ting-a-_

The small bell was abruptly ripped from the door, pulled by it's string into the darkness. Dennis thankfully moved away from her, his shaking having made her horribly nauseous on top of everything else. He stared at the empty space where the bell used to hang and murmured hopefully to himself, "Probably it's just a rat."

He shakily walked to the wall and grabbed a rifle, his fingers trembling as he checked for ammo and cocked the weapon. "_Just a rat_..." He shot a quick glance at her before stepping out the way he came in.

Her eyes closed.

...

Four months had gone by and Soul continued to visit her fairly regularly. Despite the guilt she felt at their relationship, she was always excited to see him. Rather than talking the majority of the time like when he first began coming around, they mostly just kissed or made-out when they met. He seemed to know what she was comfortable with and how far to push her passed it before she balked. He also knew what to say, the right words to give her the smallest nudge in the direction he wanted her to go. For example, if she told him she just wanted to talk, he would immediately tell her how beautiful she looked before kissing her. It was frustrating, but whenever a wiggle of unease entered her mind, she forcefully pushed it away.

Because for the first time in so long she felt _happy_.

There had always been an ugly bitterness she'd hid in her heart, even from herself. She read endless books of girls her age going out and enjoying life, having dates, experiencing _love_. She wanted that, wanted the happiness she knew the people who'd come before her had taken for granted. It wasn't a foreign concept, many of the younger men and women within the caves had similar feelings - complaining loudly and often. Maka had always scolded them, though she was secretly just as angry at the hand they'd all been dealt.

That bitterness, however, was gradually being replaced by joy.

"Maka, come here."

Surprised, Maka looked up, more or less use to his sudden appearances by now. "Hi, I'm just setting up rat-traps," she told him, looking back down to carefully place the small biscuit on the trigger. When she was pulling back the trap, Soul grabbed her by the upper arm and pulled her up.

"Hey!" she cried as he jerked her down the hall of the home she was searching, watching as her trap snapped shut and tumbled along the ground. "What the hell's your problem!?"

He pushed her against a wall when they entered a small room and he smashed their lips together. He groaned as his hands moved behind her to slip beneath her shirt and stroke up her back. The kiss was hard and punishing, more intense than any they'd shared before. He pressed his erection against her and she squeaked into his mouth. _That_ was new. He unlatched her bra and her eyes shot wide open.

Maka pulled away from his mouth. "Soul, what the hell are you doing?"

Undeterred, he kissed down her neck, nipping at her pulse. The words he murmured brushed against her neck in cool breaths. "You're so pretty, so warm, so soft. I need this. _Let me have this_." He never stopped, just continued to push her further and further. His hands moved quickly as they darted from beneath her shirt and tugged off her jacket.

She felt flushed and heated as his hands traveled over her, more aggressive and demanding than she could remember them ever being. When his hand began to slide beneath the waist of her pants, the nerves he'd manage to push aside came bounding back. "Stop! Soul, stop!"

"Don't you need me, too?" he whispered into her ear. "Do this for me and show me."

The breath left her lungs like he'd punched her.

His fingers crept lower and she let them, her eyes squeezing shut as he touched her, groaning into her ear. She didn't like this. Shouldn't she like this? His knee forced her thighs apart and his fingers entered her, rubbing in a fevered tempo. Tears burned behind her eyes and his actions felt crude and harried.

Soul's mouth found hers again, and she tried to focus on the kiss and forget about his stroking fingers. His free hand lifted under her shirt and squeezed her breast painfully in his hand. "You like that?" he asked against her lips. She pressed her lips together and nodded.

His hands left her, to her relief, but it wasn't over. "Take your clothes off," he ordered, removing his own jacket.

"What?" she asked breathlessly, hoping she'd heard him wrong.

"You heard me." His t-shirt came off next and the garment was tossed carelessly on the ground. He looked at her impatiently, hands on his hips.

"Look, Soul. I don't feel comfortable doing this, maybe-"

"You don't feel comfortable around me?" he asked, suddenly sounding hurt.

"What? No, I do but-"

He stepped foreword and took her hands in his, pressing them to his lips. "Please, Maka. Let me do this. I'll be so gentle with you, I promise. Please let me show you how much I want you."

Maka's eyes went from their joined hands to his earnest gaze, feeling overwhelmed.

Her heart pounded hard in her ears. Finally, she nervously nodded. "Okay."

Her hands were shaking as they lifted up her shirt off her head, not able to look him in the eye. Her cheeks tingled as they reddened, and she threw her shirt at her feet, her unclasped bra loosely hanging on her shoulders.

"And the rest," he prompted when she just stood there. Not bothering to argue this time, Maka unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down. When she'd stepped out of the leg holes, Soul grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer once more, kissing her mouth.

He lowered them to the floor, over a water stained rug that stank of mildew and scratched the skin of her back. He tugged her bra from her and leaned down to kiss her neck. His jeans rubbed hard against her underwear, and the skin of his chest felt cold as it pressed painfully down on her own. His hands traced her sides, up and down her ribcage as his kisses lowered to her collarbone then down to her breasts.

Her breath hitched as he licked her nipple, and the first rush of pleasure she'd felt that day trickled down below her bellybutton. When his fingers slid again beneath her underwear, she froze, but the movements didn't feel as awkward as they had before and her hips rose of their own violation.

Her hands lifted from where she'd previously kept them stiff at her side, and carefully touched the cool skin of his arms. Her head fell back and her hands clawed as he reached a particularly good spot, her breathing coming now in sharp pants.

When she was just becoming comfortable with the way things were progressing, he pulled away and jerkily unzipped his jeans. Maka blushed as she watched him, feeling once again exposed beneath his body. She didn't want to look at his face because she was too embarrassed to make eye contact, and she didn't look _lower _because that embarrassed her even more - so she just stared awkwardly at the smooth, tan skin of his chest as he pulled down his pants.

She heard the rustle of fabric as his pants were tossed aside, and Maka squeezed her eyes shut. "Easy," he crooned as she flinched involuntarily when one of his hands reached down to grip her hip as he positioned himself against her. It wasn't painful like she'd heard it could be, but she still found it uncomfortable and invasive. He moved inside her and bent over to kiss her again.

She focused on the kiss, trying to forget about his erratic movements. He bit her lip painfully and she jerked, eyes opening to see him looming over her, weight on his forearms. "Pay attention," he admonished.

Her nod was short and sheepish before she quickly broke eye contact.

He continued to bang their hips together, and every now and then he would move in a way that had a spark of pleasure chasing along her nerves. Her knees jerked up around his hips when the pleasure reached a tempo. Her body grew increasingly heated and sweat began to shimmer against her skin, rubbing off onto his.

Her hips jerked and she could feel something building in her abdomen, making her lift her hips in attempt to fulfill the promise of pleasure. Just when the release seemed so close, Soul abruptly jerked and collapsed over her.

Maka panted against his neck in disbelief, hips twitching and grinding to try and finish whatever it was she'd been rising towards. The pleasure faded, leaving only her frustration.

Her skin cooled as she waited for him to do something, _anything_. When he remained still, suddenly feeling unsure she asked, "Soul?"

His head lifted at her voice, but the look he gave her was a blank one. He pushed off her and grabbed his pants, pulling them on with lazy movements. Naked, cold, and confused, Maka watched him as he casually dressed. "Soul?" she repeated, sitting up.

His eyes found hers, and he put on a smile and kissed her mouth before walking out the door. She stared in confusion at the place he'd vacated and as the door opened and slammed shut in the distance, it was like all the air was sucked straight out of her lungs. Breathless and heart hurting, Maka slowly collected her clothes and got dressed on autopilot. Her stare was blank as she ran over the events, feeling lost and confused.

He just... left. Why did he just leave? Didn't people cuddle after sex? Had she done something wrong?

She'd just lost her virginity and had never felt more used in her life. She rubbed her chest miserably, wondering if it was normal to feel so hollow after a supposedly 'special' moment'. Her eyes closed and she grit her teeth. Sex was horrible and she hoped she never had to do it again.

Which was exactly what she told Soul when he appeared before her two days later.

He cocked his head at her, hands on his hips. She wondered nervously if he'd start spouting all that stuff about 'need' like before but he remained carefully quiet as he watched her. She fidgeted and his eyes zeroed in on the movement before meeting hers once more. A smile bloomed on his face, sympathetic and understanding.

He had her on the ground fifteen minutes later.

He spent careful attention to her this time, and she climaxed first against his mouth and then three more times as he drove into her. It was wild and hot and sweaty and _completely _different from the first time.

* * *

Two months passed and she _really _liked sex.

He visited her less often, once or twice a week, but he more than made up for his absences when he was around. They were currently laying in a tired heap on the old carpet of an apartment living room, the post-coital atmosphere quiet and charged with lazy satisfaction.

"You're so warm," he told her. It was something he said a lot, and for the most part she ignored it, taking it as some sort of weird robot endearment. His finger gently traced the skin of her shoulder. "_Your blood would be warmer._"

Her eyes shot open.

What. The. Fuck.

She jerked out of his arms and looked down to see him staring back at her calmly. "What the hell did you just say?"

He smiled then, and for a split second it absolutely terrified her. "Don't worry, I'm just flirting."

That was the first time in memory that she'd ever felt genuinely threatened by him, and the warning bells she'd smothered over the past several months blared in her mind as she looked into his eyes that suddenly seemed cold and desolate as they stared back at her.

"I have to go," she told him. Before she could reach for her shirt, he had her rolled on her back, pinned neatly beneath him.

"Don't say you don't trust me," he whispered. "We're meant for each other, remember?"

Her unease grew. "Soul, get off me-"

"I don't think I could be with someone who didn't trust me."

The thought of him gone instantly terrified her, and the intensity of that emotion surprised and worried her. When had her feelings grown this much? She had always been independent and self assured like her mother (had made a point of it), so why did the thought of life without him make her physically ill? She wasn't this needy. Even as these and other thoughts ran through her mind, she couldn't help but reply, "No, I trust you..."

"Because, though it would break me apart, I would let you go. I'd leave and never look back."

Something in her chest sunk low. "I trust you."

"Good."

Awhile later, after they'd gotten dressed, Maka walked out the lobby of the apartment and sucked in her breath. A body lay broken on the road, a pool of red surrounding the person as their limbs fell beside them at awkward angles. She looked beside the body to see a robot looming above, it's head cocked to the side as it studied the corpse.

Maka dropped her bag, adjusted her scythe in her gloves and charged the robot splattered red. If the robot registered the quick tapping of her sneakers against the pavement, it didn't show it - simply stared curiously and dispassionately at the body beneath it. With a cry of anger, Maka swung her scythe and jabbed the lethal point into it's eye socket.

It's limbs fell immediately limp and she kicked him off her weapon when the metal body stuck. That done, Maka rushed over to collapse near the body, her knees soaking with still warm blood. His stomach was ripped out, and his colon and small intestine hung out the hole in a messy heap. His heart was still clutched in the hand of the immobile robot behind her.

"Oh, Franklin," she whispered, her hands brushing the freckled face of the boy just a year younger than her. She lifted his lower body onto her lap, cradling his head in the curve of her arm. He had messy brown hair and had worked on Kidd's team. She remembered just last week, he had asked her shyly if her could sit beside her at breakfast. Maka straightened his arms and legs with care and combed her fingers softly through his curls. She didn't realize she was crying until the wet drops landed on the boy's freckled nose.

"Shit."

Maka turned to see Soul standing near her, he'd just stepped in the pool of blood and was wiping his boot against the cement to get it off. She watched him incredulously, as he ignored the boy in her arms and casually examined the bottom of his shoe, checking to see if he'd gotten it off.

"What is wrong with you?"

He looked up at her. "What?"

"_Show some respect_," Maka hissed, face wet and voice hoarse.

He regarded first the dead boy laying against her, then his eyes moved up to her face. "Why? Is he still warm?"

She wanted to throw up as his face showed genuine interest. When he took a step towards her, careful of the blood, she held the boy tighter to her chest. "Stop! Don't come any closer!"

His eyes turned lethal at her words, but he stopped as she'd asked. The words sounded cold and threatening as he said, "I'll pretend you didn't just _order me_ to do something."

"What does it matter if he's still warm?" she shot back, rather than acknowledging his ill concealed threat.

"What do you mean?"

"It's all you seem to care about! You always talk about it, like you're obsessed! It's like the only reason you keep seeing me is because I'm warm!"

His head tilted, confused. "Is there another reason?"

The hurt those words caused was debilitating, but she had more important matters to deal with. Carefully, Maka manoeuvred Franklin so that he was lying over her back, propped up by the scythe she'd positioned beneath his thighs. His arms hung lifelessly over her shoulders and she held back the tears as blood dripped from his mouth down her collarbone.

"I don't want to see you again," she bit out when she'd struggled to her feet under the weight of her companion. "That was the last time. No more."

He watched her carefully, his irises spinning. His voice was cold when he spoke next. "And why is that?"

Tears fell from her face in silent streaks. "Because I just remembered that you're a _robot_. Thanks for the reminder."

Soul moved closer to her, ignoring when she took a cautionary step back. He gripped her chin and tilted her face so he could look into her uncertain eyes. "We'll talk about this later," he promised

"Eat lead," she growled, jerking her face away from his fingers.

* * *

But just as he said, they did talk later.

It was late and she was up on a building near the cave entrances, scouting for enemies which had been causing disturbances lately. One of the younger scavengers had reported 'white' figures around the area when he'd come home after dark one night. It was probably nothing, but he'd been so distraught (and had looked so much like the deceased Franklin) that she'd offered to be look out.

The hazy moon hung low in the starless sky as she leaned against a concrete wall and watched the entrances to the old subway station from above.

She didn't even hear his footsteps, only knew he was there when cool fingers suddenly stroked against her neck. Shivers ran through her, and she looked up to see him kneeling beside her. "I told you to leave me alone."

"You can't get rid of me so easily," was his soft reply.

Sighing, Maka rubbed the back of her thumb against her forehead. She didn't know how long it'd been since she'd last seen him, but (as cheesy as it sounded) it had felt like forever. Her eyes found the moon, and she let her head rest back against the wall.

"I missed you," she admitted to him, mere seconds after finally admitting it to herself. She had missed him to the point that it hurt, though she hadn't wanted to - _still _didn't want to.

He didn't reply, just moved in to kiss her gently on the mouth. Maka closed her eyes and returned it, her arms wrapping around his neck tightly.

"This is the last time," she told him when they broke apart, their breath mingling.

"If you say so," was the only reply she got. He obviously didn't believe her, and in her heart - that always seemed to ache so sweetly when she was near him - she also knew it was a lie.

He was in her head, wrapped around her so tightly that he trapped her in a web of his own design. She was starting to fear that she didn't want to get out.

As he touched her under the moon, she held on to him like he was her only lifeline.

...

The world was swimming again and she wanted back in her all consuming memories, but they were already gone. She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to rub her head but her hands were stuck at her sides for some reason.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" a loud, angry yell.

She groaned as the noise entered her ears and banged around in her skull painfully. It sort of sounded like Soul, but she'd been hearing a lot of him in the past few hours so she couldn't be sure.

"N-nothing. _Ow_, stop! I promise! See, look! She's awake!" Dennis. So this wasn't a memory.

She felt cool hands gently probe the back of her head and she flinched when they touched a tender area. The careful fingers then moved to cup her cheeks, lifting her face. "Her lip's split and her cheek is bruised."

"Just a small tap, I swear!"

Hah.

"Did you touch her?" his tone left no confusion on what kind of 'touch' he meant.

"N-no, I swear on my mum! Please, I didn't know she was yours!"

Her left hand was freed from whatever had kept it immobile, then her right as well. Arms wrapped around her back and under her knees as she was lifted from her seat. Her head protested, but she figured it was worth the pain if she could be moved away from whatever that horrid smell was.

"N-no hard feelings then?"

She was gently manoeuvred so she leaned against his chest. A gun cocked and fired and the thud of a body rang behind her.

Her eyes squinted open, the light dancing dizzyingly in the small space. She saw flashes of white and red. "Soul?"

"_Shh_, I got you," he murmured soothingly in her ear, both arms around her once more as he stepped into the dark. "Go back to sleep, Maka."

"I told you not to come back," she remembered tiredly.

He was quiet a moment. "I know."

"I'm glad you did."

* * *

A/N: Say the words "Sex Scene" and watch how fast I disappear. Anyway, this was a big chapter and I hope what I wrote seemed natural and... flowy. Tell me what you think!

Next chapter in two weeks!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Smoke rose from the barrel of his glock as the unwashed body fell lifelessly to the ground in a dead thud. His eyes had followed it down and, though he could hear no discernible heartbeat, he watched carefully for the rise and fall of the chest.

None.

Soul lowered his arm and let out the shaky breath he'd been holding, still feeling unstable. The knowledge of this death offered a faint sense of satisfaction, but he knew it wasn't nearly enough to quench the craving for blood that this _pig_ had ignited. He wanted to bring the fucker back to life just so he could pound his greasy face in - to cause enough pain that his cries would echo out his disgusting hovel and into the surrounding tunnels.

"Soul?"

The soft, breathy groan that brushed against his neck reminded him why he'd been forced to simply shoot the bastard in the head when every part of him yearned to rip him apart. With gritted teeth, Soul forced himself to pocket the gun and carefully adjusted Maka so she lay more comfortably in his arms.

"_Shh_, I got you," he told her as he stepped out of the subway car, not giving the bloody mess behind them a second glance. He could feel the heat of her fever against his skin and it worried him. "Go back to sleep, Maka."

One of her hands rose absently to clutch at his shirt. "I told you not to come back."

Soul froze, air sucked from his lungs in an automatic reaction as cold dread coursed through him. His pores tingled with a phantom sweat they could no longer secrete as the words brought to the forefront of his mind a past that haunted him constantly. Bile rose and Soul had to fight the all consuming urge to drop her as his skin buzzed with the need to reject any contact with a warm body.

"I know," he managed to choke out, his fingers tightening around her despite his mental protest. He forced himself to continue walking.

A soft sigh. "I'm glad you did."

"You shouldn't be," he grated, but she had already begun to drift off, the fingers gripping his shirt loosening. When he felt her grow completely lax in his arms, he breathed out in relief, the need to get away from her dissipating slightly. With the tunnels once again silent, Soul continued through the darkness, his enhanced vision able to distinguish the various curves and obstacles in front of him.

When Maka still hadn't appeared several hours after she'd slumped away into her tunnels, Soul had grudgingly set out to look for her, expecting to find her crying somewhere, curled in a ball and wailing over her missing friends. When instead he found her lantern, glass broken and extinguished on its side by a small plastic box, his heart had kicked with a dose of panic and he'd cursed himself for not looking sooner.

Over an hour he'd spent in those stupid tunnels, following the faint signal that led him to dead end after dead end (how many fucking turns did a subway station need?). Around the third time he was forced to turn around and re-trace his steps, he began to worry that the chip he'd stuck in her skin had been damaged. The thought made the ill feeling in his gut worsen. It wasn't until he'd tripped over a wire - almost planting himself face first into the cement - that he found a stroke of luck.

"Fuck!" Soul had cursed as he grabbed the wall beside him, his foot still caught. When he turned to see what had nearly caused him to eat dirt, he'd spotted the barely noticeable wire and was instantly suspicious. Crouching down in front of it, Soul carefully flicked the taut line and watched the vibrations follow the it up and along the wall till it disappeared into a small crack.

A tripwire.

He knew it was probably nothing, just a primitive method of security made by someone who was at this moment stuck in the labs with the rest of the survivors. It was unlikely that the scientists would have missed someone - they were unfortunately _very_ thorough.

Still...

Soul rose and stepped over the wire, walking to where he'd seen it disappear into its hole. Gripping the line firmly in his hand, Soul pulled on it sharply, not releasing the pressure till the wire grew slack, presumably torn from its source. Dropping the line, Soul waited.

He wasn't disappointed.

Not even fifteen minutes later, the hump-backed idiot had come storming around the corner (his steps surprisingly nimble) with a long barrel rifle held tight in his gnarled fingers. His chest was heaving, the glassy bulges of his eyes scanning and assessing Soul. From the sweat rapidly forming on his brow, he apparently didn't like his odds.

He wiped his forehead jerkily with his upper arm, cocked the rifle and pointed it at Soul. Snarling, he spat out a warning, "Step back or I'll shoot. She's mine now, and you'll not have her."

Soul raised his eyebrows at the threat and, calmly pulling his hands from his jacket pockets, he slowly walked up to the quivering man. "I said I'll shoot!" the man stammered, stepping back as Soul advanced. His foot hit the wall behind him and he spared a fearful glance back before his panicky eyes returned to Soul's.

With one hand, Soul tore the gun from the sweaty fingers that held it and tossed it aside without a glance. The other hand wrapped around the stubbled neck of the man who had threatened him, pressing him hard into the damp brick wall.

Squeezing just enough to keep him conscious, Soul leaned down till they were eye level. While his eyes burned with a deep loathing, Soul kept his face blank as he hissed the words, "Take me to her, or I will feed you your fucking heart."

After receiving a hasty nod, Soul let him go and watched as he sprawled helplessly to the ground, coughing and clutching at his throat. Soul patiently waited as the hunched man scrambled to his feet before following him through the tunnels, arriving eventually in a large room full of old subway railcars. Seeing one of the cars flicker with a dim light, Soul immediately ditched his whimpering guide and sprinted to it, his heart in his throat.

When he saw her tied up - bleeding, bruised, and delirious - anger took hold of him fast and violent, all if it focused on the dead bastard making stupid excuses behind him.

A dead bastard who was now far behind them laying in a pool of his own blood with a bullet lodged in his skull.

Soul looked down at Maka, took in solemnly her bloody nose, her bruised cheek, her split lip. He swallowed and shifted his gaze away, the guilt eating at him. He should have come sooner, should have been watching her closer. Maybe if he hadn't hurt her feelings she wouldn't have wondered off in the first place.

_Thud._

Confused at what he'd hit with his foot, Soul looked over Maka to find the small plastic lunch box that he'd spotted beside her broken lantern. She must have been looking through it when she'd been taken. After a brief internal debate, Soul crouched down and picked up the box. He carefully balanced it on Maka's stomach, and continued once more along the damp path, not stopping again until they'd reached the faint light of the common room.

Once there, he set her gently on a large couch and pulled down the blanket that hung over the back to wrap around her. She was sweating profusely and mumbling incoherently, her face and chest flushed a deep pink. Soul pressed his hand against her forehead and the sinking feeling in his gut worsened - she was burning with fever and getting worse by the second.

* * *

The computers of the control room beeped and moaned sporadically. Their blue lights flashed brightly in the dark room as they recorded and transported information throughout the facility. Among the hectic activity, Tsubaki sat alone, staring silently into the monitor that showed her the cell of the boy with blue hair.

She watched him pace behind the grainy screen, his movements tense and frustrated. A women had recently been separated from the others for experimentation and Blackstar had instantly erupted in a slew of obscene curses and loud yelling. It wasn't surprising - he reacted similarly every time someone was taken, his response just as, if not more so, violent than all the previous times.

And, just as all the previous times, he was ignored. Even when he slammed his fist repeatedly against the glass, further injuring his hand, the scientists refused to stitch him up. While they were loath to let a specimen harm itself, it was deemed foolish to attempt first aid after what had happened the last time.

As she followed his defeated movements with her eyes, she decided ignoring him was the worst punishment they could have given him.

Without her consent, her hand rose to trace his face through the screen, the pad of her index finger just brushing against his cheek. He was so familiar to her... and yet he wasn't.

His blue eyes suddenly darted to the camera and Tsubaki jerked back in surprise. His gaze held for several seconds, and she grew nervous - though it was impossible for him to see her. When he looked away, she breathed out, unaware she had been holding her breath.

"415780?" Recognizing her number, Tsubaki looked from the screen to the pasty face of the figure standing in the doorway. It was strange, ever since she'd heard Soul address her with her human name, one she hadn't heard in nearly a decade, she had begun to think of herself by it. It was highly irregular behaviour, and a warning in her brain told her she should immediately have it looked at and corrected. Perhaps she would later recheck her brainwaves for malfunctions.

"Yes?"

"There is a shift change in an hour. You may leave once your replacement arrives."

She went to nod but then stopped, her head freezing in place. Confused, Tsubaki instead opened her mouth to voice her understanding but it abruptly closed, also without her consent. It was at this point that she (somewhat belatedly) realized she _didn't want_ to leave.

"415780, do you understand? Respond."

Confusion and indecision ran through her and it felt like two warring factions were battling for control in her brain. Finally, without changing her carefully blank expression, Tsubaki inquired politely, "Perhaps I should wash the hallways?"

The body didn't move, it's eyeless face pointed in her direction. After a while it replied, "This is highly unorthodox, the hallways are not scheduled to be cleaned until tomorrow. What is your reasoning?"

"I believe it would be a more efficient use of my time as I have nothing else planned. I have recently refuelled and slept so I have a high energy level." It was a lie, she hadn't slept for two days and her last meal was taken over a week ago. The sudden need to lie confused her - she knew if she didn't the likelihood of her request being authorized decreased significantly, but the reason she cared was beyond her. She _shouldn't_ care.

Perhaps Soul would know. Tsubaki mentally added it to the growing list of things she would ask him on their next meeting.

"You have no more additional assignments?"

"I am not normally chosen for attack assignments as I usually fail." That at least, was the truth. The few times she had been commissioned to attack one or more humans, she always ended up accidentally doing something wrong: forgetting to turn off the safety on her weapon, tripping over her feet, bringing a lack of sufficient ammo, hitting other robots. Eventually they had stopped asking.

It stood facing her a long while, not moving. "Very well. Do as you wish."

"Yes."

Tsubaki forced her movements to remain calm and fluid as the being behind her collected it's things, checked the monitors, tapped something into the screen and left. Head turning when the door to the control room shut firmly, Tsubaki rose from her seat and rushed to the door to lock it.

Now that the advisor was finally gone, she had an hour to implement the plan Soul had come up with.

Sitting back down in front of the monitors with a quick check over each shoulder, Tsubaki reached over and tugged the main cord loose from a nearby computer. She pulled out a small knife that she'd hidden in an inner pocket of her pants and carefully cut open the soft, rubber shell exposing the organic inside that sparked with the swimming blue lights of the sophisticated technology.

Leaving the cord on the desk, she pushed away slightly and leaned over her left arm. Tsubaki then pressed the blade against her wrist, gritted her teeth, and slit the skin vertically up her forearm, deep enough that the clear tissue fluid beneath was pouring from the puncture.

Tsubaki hastily set the knife on the table and pushed into the flesh with her fingers, blindly feeling around till she felt a thin wire with the pad of her forefinger. As soon as she gripped it, spasms of pain wracked through her body, leaving her gasping for breath. Tsubaki pulled the wire from her arm with trembling fingers, wincing as it brushed against a bed of nerves.

Breathing through her nose now to ignore the pain, Tsubaki wiped off the excess fluid and brought her left arm up to the cord she'd set aside on the desk. After a moment of hesitation, she touched the wire to the small opening she'd made in the computer cord.

A sharp and sudden jolt coursed through her as the computer's energy diffused into her body. What followed was a massive pileup of information, all of it pushing through the wire in attempt to fill up her brain.

_"You have to be careful with the information, Tsubaki,"_ Soul had told her seriously after he'd described his idea to her._ "It's always eager to get in your head, and it can easily overwhelm you if you aren't careful. Don't let it."_

She siphoned through the flow as best she could but the information came so fast it only registered in her brain as white noise. When her head began to grow uncomfortably full, she remembered Soul's instructions. Like he'd showed her, she imagined a brick wall in her mind, one strong enough to stop the informative torrent. The flow ceased and she breathed out, relieved it had worked.

Next she tried to ask for specific information, allowing a single brick to loosen from her mental shield as she did so. _Laboratory entrance points?_

_LftRomClngTnlDrStRf..._

She pushed back against the flow, imagining now the information moving as slow as molasses as it slid into her mind.

_Left Hall... Front Door... Roof Door..._

Satisfied, she let the words flow into an imagined compartment within her mind and dutifully projected her second assigned search into the computer.

These searches continued well into the hour she'd been allotted, time she'd spent collecting information beyond even Soul's specific instructions. It was important to her that she do this well, though she didn't know why.

When the hour was finally up, she'd barely had time to stick the wire back into her arm, hastily wrap it up with bandages she'd snuck in with her, and move the cord back into its original location.

Just as Tsubaki was wiping away the tissue fluid with the extra bandages, a knock on the door signalled the arrival of her replacement. Quickly stuffing the wrappings in her jacket pocket, Tsubaki walked to the door and unlocked it.

"The door was locked," the robot behind the door intoned.

"Sometimes it sticks," Tsubaki replied.

"I clearly heard you unlock - "

Tsubaki brushed passed him, not looking back even when her number was called.

She was walking to the exit with hurried steps when she suddenly remembered her spontaneous offer to wash the hallway floors. At the mental reminder, there was a sharp pain in her brain and a twinge in her heart that had her rubbing her chest even as she altered her path to head towards the janitorial room.

By the time Tsubaki had obtained her cleaning supplies, night had fallen and the lights inside the holding cells were turned down to save energy as the patients slept.

She was currently wheeling her bucket and mop through the dimmed halls and the only sounds resonating was the faint squeak of one of the wheels and the quiet tapping of her footsteps. The men and woman caged around her slept soundly with the aid of the drugged gas that pooled continuously into their rooms from the ceiling vents. They were all sprawled awkwardly on the ground, limbs twisted at odd angles and slumped over each other as though they had fallen unconscious where they stood. It was eerily unnatural, and she found herself watching their chests to make sure they were still breathing.

What was she doing here? Tsubaki wondered, not for the first time. She'd gotten the information Soul had asked her to and should be back at her home compiling it in preparation for their next meeting. For some reason, however, she had offered to perform the menial task of mopping up the hallways. Why?

She would ask Soul - he seemed to know why she did things that defied logic.

It was only when she spotted the corridor number painted on the wall beside her that Tsubaki realized she was in the hall that housed the cell of the boy with blue hair. Blackstar. It wasn't the hall she'd been assigned to clean. Had she walked here on accident? Confused at her odd behaviour, Tsubaki turned to walk back the way she came but her limbs abruptly stopped against her will and her body swivelled itself back around.

Not this again.

Growing frustrated, she tried a second time to alter her path, but couldn't make herself move. Only when she decided to continue walking forwards did her muscles finally unlocked and she was relinquished control.

Was she malfunctioning? Soul would -

_Bang!_

"Who's there!?"

Tsubaki froze. The voice had come from one of the cells. _His_ cell. Unexplainable apprehension filled her at the thought of seeing him, and she took a step back wearily.

"Your smoke doesn't work on me! Show your ugly faces!"

Though still hesitant, Tsubaki nevertheless tugged the squeaky bucket over to Blackstar's cell. Unlike the others, the light in his room had been left on, the sensors having detected his copious movements. When she stepped into the light, his blue eyes lock onto her.

She watched his face change when he spotted hers, saw the way it whitened and how the angry pinch of his features slackened into shock... then horror. Upon further examination, she noticed the area beneath his eyes was dark from sleepless nights and his cheeks were gaunt from lack of food. The absence of nutrition had done nothing to his hair, at least not yet, and it was still defying gravity in a shocking shade of blue.

"You," his voice left his lips in a breathy, scratchy tone - hoarse from his constant yelling.

She was surprised when he fell to his knees without warning, unable to understand the reasoning behind this action. Nor did she understand the changes she saw in his expression - changes that somehow fascinated her to the point that she found herself returning his stare wordlessly, entranced despite herself.

His hand raised to press against the glass and her eyes darted to it, noting the movement before returning her gaze to his expressive face. Guided by a pull she couldn't explain, Tsubaki walked up to the glass and kneeled down in front of him. Her hand lifted to press her fingers to his palm.

"Hello."

"You're really here?" he breathed.

"Yes."

Blackstar swallowed, blinking hard. "How?"

"I was assigned to mop the hallways." At his confused look, Tsubaki added. "I have also come to obtain information vital to your rescue."

His eyes widened, and he straightened. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" she asked blankly.

"You said you were rescuing us."

"Not me."

Hope flickered on his face. "Who? My br-"

"Soul."

Blackstar frowned, brows furrowing. "Soul? Soul Evans? He's rescuing _me_?"

"You and everyone here, though he gives the impression that he is reluctant."

"He _hates_ me - I mean, I kinda deserve it but still..."

She had forgotten Blackstar's habit of babbling. The time was getting late, and she still needed to mop the floors. Besides, it wouldn't be good if she was found here by one of the scientists.

"I shouldn't be here," she interrupted, rising from the ground and retrieving the mop she'd propped against the glass.

"You're leaving?" he asked, upset.

"Yes."

"Wait, just answer one question! Is my brother with you? Is he alive?"

She stilled, a cold chill coursing through her body. His brother... he wanted to know if his brother was alive. Was he? Was Whitesta-

Tsubaki screamed as a stabbing pain burned through her skull, collapsing hard on her knees as she clutched her head. It felt as though hot needles were slowly digging into her brain, tearing it apart. Her body shook and the world around her twisted and swayed in distorted images.

"Tsubaki!" She heard Blackstar's shocked cries, and she looked up at him. For a single, horrible moment it wasn't his face that watched her back. It was _his_.

She had to get away, the darkness was creeping in her vision and she couldn't collapse within the labs. If she didn't get home everything would be ruined. Pressing her lips together, Tsubaki stood and shaky legs. "I have to go," she told him, ignoring the the pain as best she could. "I will see you again."

Blackstar watched with conflicting emotions as his brother's fiancé, still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, stumbled away from him. His fists clenched, feeling completely useless.

* * *

It was his voice that she heard first, muffled and muted as though spoken from a great distance. She easily recognized the familiar and calming tone, strangely tinged with a new hint of desperation, but she couldn't understand what he was saying, her mind slow and lethargic. A cool palm laid against her forehead, gently brushing back sticky strands of hair with rhythmic strokes. In a blurred image she saw his face peering down at her before it moved away, just as the darkness came over her again.

"Maka?"

She blinked awake, then squeezed her eyes shut when a sharp headache took reign of her senses. Maka clenched her teeth as her mind swayed on the edge of wakefulness, the pain nearly pushing her back into the darkness.

Two hands cradled her cheeks. "Maka! Don't fall back asleep. I need you to stay conscious for me." She groaned as she fought through the layers of fog.

"That's it..." she heard as a thumb traced the arch of her left brow lightly. Maka's eyes squinted open and moved around till they locked on Soul, his brows furrowed and lips pinched in concern. He looked worried and worn out, exhausted even as he cupped her face so gently. Wanting to sooth the harsh creases of his face, Maka lifted her hand and tiredly reached towards him. Soul didn't seem to notice her fingers until they had already reached and pressed against his cheek, when he finally did however, he jerked back violently.

In his haste to get away, Soul ended up pulling Maka over the edge of the couch. While her fall was relatively gentle, the jarring of the impact was brutal when coupled with her existing injuries. Her muttered "Ow" was muffled by the ground.

"Shit!" Hands gripped her beneath the arms and pulled her up. "Christ Maka, I'm sorry. I just... _shit_."

"Mhm..." Maka mumbled stiffly, eyes squeezed shut as she let him manoeuvre her back onto the couch.

"Are you okay?"

"Give me a second, please..."

Several minutes passed before the pain finally ebbed away, leaving her feeling weak and achy. Maka breathed out shakily as her clenched muscles relaxed and she sunk languidly into the soft cushion beneath her. Her eyelids fluttered open for a second time.

"Better?" Soul asked when she looked at him.

"Yeah," Maka answered, clearing her throat softly. "What happened?"

Soul ran a hand over his mouth and he considered what to tell her. "How much do you remember?" he asked.

The horrible image of Dennis hovering over her played in her mind and she grimaced. Everything else though... "It's a bit hazy, to be honest. I remember being pushed down, then I kind of faded in and out after that."

Soul looked down at his hands. "By the time I found you, you were tied up in a subway car and he'd beaten you up pretty badly. You had a fever of 104 degrees for most of last night. You just broke it this morning and have been sleeping ever since."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead."

Maka nodded, remembering faintly the sound of a gunshot among the mess of memories. She rubbed her forehead and sighed. Her face hurt, her head hurt, in general she just _hurt_. "Have you made any progress with your plan?" Maka wondered, a smidgen of guilt in her chest at the fact that he was doing most of the work.

Soul nodded. "Yes, actually. I have someone gathering information from within the lab. Tsubaki took a temporary job and she'll tell me what she's found in a couple of hours."

"I thought you were collecting the info."

"I was blocked. Somehow they installed a firewall that attacks anyone searching for information regarding the facility." Soul shook his head, crossing his arms absently. "The thing that worries me is the fact that it was implemented so recently."

Maka frowned. "You think they know?" she wondered.

"They obviously know someone is looking, but I don't think they know who it is."

"That's a relief at least. Who's Tsubaki?" She had waited a sufficient amount of time. Had continued with their conversation like normal. She was embarrassed how the name had stuck into her mind, continuing to nag at her even when the subject had changed.

Soul hesitated, and her heart hammered. "She was Whitestar's girlfriend. They were planning on getting married after the war."

The guilty relief she felt was quickly overtaken by shock. "Whitestar... you mean Blackstar's brother?"

He nodded.

"So then Blackstar's once future sister-in-law is helping us?"

"That's correct."

"Wait, so then does that mean Whitestar is - ?"

"No."

Maka closed her mouth, taken aback by the total lack of feeling in his tone. One that brooked no argument and ended the conversation instantly, leaving them in a tense silence. Soul gruffly left with the excuse of getting her a glass of water, and Maka mentally noted never to bring up Whitestar when he was in a bad mood. She watched his back as he disappeared around a corner, then lifted her hands up high in attempt to stretch out the kinks in her back. How long had she been asleep, she wondered staring up at the cement ceiling? In the caves it was almost impossible to tell.

Soul returned before she could ponder the thought too long, careful not to touch her fingers when he handed her a small plastic cup of water. Once she'd taken it, Soul stepped back several feet, taking his small stool with him.

Frowning at his avoidance, Maka discretely checked beneath her fingernails to see if they were dirty. Finding nothing, she grimly decided that he was just building up more walls between them, ever at a distance. Somehow bothered by it more than usual, Maka looked up at Soul purposefully. "Can I ask you something?"

Raising his head, Soul could see by the look in her eye that he wouldn't like whatever it was she wanted to ask. Nevertheless, he nodded, indicating with a wave of his hand for her to continue.

"Just now, when I woke up and tried to touch you, why did you pull away?" Maka stared at him determinedly, a hint of colour in her cheeks. "You did the same thing before too, letting me go suddenly after you'd grabbed me that time in the common room."

Shit, Soul thought guiltily as he spotted the hurt she trying to hide. He was probably the reason she ran off into the tunnels - too upset to remember her scythe. Soul pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming. Funny, he never used to get them. "You want to know why?" he asked, though his mind screamed at him in protest.

She nodded.

"Even if you won't like it?"

Another nod.

"Fine," Soul said, standing up.

Maka looked up at him in confusion. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

He shook his head and held a hand out to her. "Not now, you haven't eaten since yesterday. Come on, I'll find you some food... then we can talk."

* * *

Soul was resting his head against his fist, sitting at a small lunch table bolted into the wall and watching Maka inhale her food beside him. Much to his chagrin, the lukewarm can of beans he'd place in front of her was quickly diminishing. It hadn't taken long for him to regret his decision to tell her everything. He was still half tempted to spout some bullshit story instead, but the ever present guilt warred against that inclination. She deserved to know, even if he'd rather drink hot lead than tell her. His hands shook as he thought of what he was about to say, about to reveal. It was just like that first week he'd sat by her bedside, the memories flooding into him - each more sickening than the last.

The final spoonful disappeared into her mouth. She swallowed and looked over at him expectantly.

He sighed deeply, not quite believing he was about to tell her. After a moment of deliberating on how to begin, he asked her, "How would you describe me before we were caught in that explosion?"

Maka placed her spoon in the can and pushed it aside. "Well - "

"And be honest, please."

His tone was odd. She didn't know how, but something about him was off, stilted almost. Her eyes roved over his face before she spoke, "...Before then, you were different. You were a little unorthodox, but I think you cared in your own way. You touched me and made me feel special. I..." she swallowed, guilty. "I sometimes miss the way you were before."

He stared at her a long time, and she nervously tried to guess his thoughts. His expression was blank for the most part, but the disgust beneath it had her heart sinking. What was worse was the disgust seemed to be self-directed.

"Maka," he started, calmly. "When I say I had no emotion, I mean exactly that - I felt _nothing_. How do you think it is, then, that I reacted to you the way I did all those times if I was emotionally incapable?"

"I - "

He didn't let her finish, interrupting her with words filled with sympathy. "Maka, we weren't friends. We weren't _lovers_. I used you. Every small queue you gave me, I responded with the action I thought would give me my desired result: jokes, affection, remorse, _love_. You were blind to the manipulations because you were caught up in your naive fantasy of romance. You wanted to be loved so badly, and I used those emotions against you, deepening them to the point were you were obsessed with me. I had you pliable to my needs, there whenever I wanted to fuck you."

He'd purposely chosen the crude words to shock her, and he could see that he had - the frantic beating of her heart and the rush of blood through her arteries was evidence of this fact. Even so, he knew she still didn't understand. His suspicions were confirmed by what she said next.

"...Are you saying this to hurt me? Did I do something? Look, I'm sorry if I..."

He shook his head with frustration. "No Maka, you don't get it. It was emotional _rape_."

"It wasn't!" she protested.

"_It was_!" he stood up, glaring down at her. "Do you think you were the _only one_?"

Her eyes were large as she looked up at him, unsure. Her fist tightened around the back of her chair. "What do you mean?"

_Don't tell her. Stop. If you lie, she'll still believe you._ The fact that he didn't know which part of him those words came from spurred him like nothing else could.

He took a deep breath and sat back down, hunching over. "Not long after I was let out of the labs, I met this girl. She was young, barely sixteen. Her and her dad lived in an underground bunker beneath their house. Her dad was an extremist, one of those people who believed that the human race got what they deserved or some shit. He'd kept her pretty ignorant about the wars. As a result she felt smothered by him, and whenever he got drunk, she'd sneak out and explored the city. I was kind of just wandering aimlessly when she found me - something new and mysterious for her to explore with behind her dad's back."

"Explore?"

Soul nodded. "I was like a walking shell back then, apathetic to the world. When she learned this, I kind of became some pseudo side-kick on her little adventures. We scoured the city everyday for months, looking through buildings, helping strays, fixing bird wings. I think in my own way I grew attached to her - or at least complacent to her presence."

"Did something happen?" Maka asked, cautiously.

Soul closed his eyes, fisting his hands so they wouldn't shake. "She wanted to have sex. Her dad had said some shit to her and she wanted to prove to herself that she was an adult. She was adamant when she asked me, not taking no for an answer. Not that I cared either way - I _couldn't _care - and since it was something to fill the emptiness, I went along with it. She was a virgin and didn't know what she was doing, so I used the information from the memories I had before the war and took over. The only thing I remember was how warm she was - and how unbelievably good that warmth felt."

He wasn't looking at her as he continued. "From that point on it was like something had emerged from inside me, something twisted and wrong. Over night the warmth had grown into an obsession, and I did whatever I could to feel it again. I took note of the memories I had about women, and began to show her a facade of affection and love. I went to her every chance I got. I was charming when she was reluctant, sympathetic when she complained. I went from helping a girl hand feed kittens everyday to manipulating a minor into regular sex." Maka noticed his shoulders begin to shake. "I made sure she was obsessed with me to the point that she did everything I wanted. She was trapped in my illusion and didn't want to get out..."

"...what happened...?"

Soul turned to her blankly, almost like he'd forgotten she was there. "She was late one day, so I went to her house, angry that she hadn't been where I'd told her to be. Her dad was in the room, sober for once. When he saw me, he tried to shoot me. I killed him. She ran into the room when she heard the gunshots and started crying. I killed her too - don't ask me why, I just did it." Soul swallowed. "I felt satisfaction... maybe because part of me saw what she'd done as a betrayal and that she got what was coming. In any case... I found out her blood was warmer than her skin had ever been."

From the corner of his eyes he could see her hands rise to cover her mouth.

"After that, I traveled from city to city, scouring the wreckages until I found someone else to give me warmth. Eventually the call of their blood was too strong and so I'd kill them and move on to another. I wasn't biased about who I chose: men, women, children. I adjusted my mannerisms and personality to suit theirs, conforming to their desires until they allowed me to use their bodies."

"Stop it... I can't..."

Soul turned to Maka, saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. He ignored her plea, telling her softly, "I convinced you that you couldn't live without me. I exploited your need for attention so I could fuck you. What we had wasn't love, Maka. It was sick and twisted and rotten."

Her head fell in her hands, her silent sobs wracking her shoulders. "...Stop..."

Soul looked away, the memories inciting the emotions he'd lived with since the day he'd tried to kill Maka: anger, humiliation, shame, guilt. His hands moved to clench his elbows.

He felt her fingers brush against his forearm and he looked up just as she collapsed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He felt the tears against his shoulder and though he hardly felt her slight weight, he let her pull him off his chair to the ground. He shakily wrapped around her, offering and taking comfort as he buried his face into her hair.

For the first time since his emotions had returned, the warmth of her body didn't sicken him with guilt.

* * *

"I can't be in a relationship with you," Soul told her solemnly, breaking the silence for the first time in the hours since he'd revealed the sickening truth of his past to her. "I should've made that clear sooner, I'm sorry." She was sitting on the ground beside him, their shoulders just touching as they leaned back against the cool tile wall. He was staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes as he spoke, unable to look at her.

Maka nodded wordlessly, had known this was coming.

"I don't want to hurt you," he admitted, rubbing his face wearily. "You're a nice girl and I like you well enough... but I just can't give you what you want."

Her eyes closed, lips pinching at the hurt swelling inside her heart. Just three months ago, he had been trapped inside his own body, an unwilling partner in a relationship that very nearly ended with her blood on his hands. Was it any wonder he didn't want to be reminded of that? And his feelings, the romantic ones she'd secretly believed he'd harboured for her, turned out to be completely platonic.

Even so, she didn't blame him - he couldn't help what he felt anymore than she could. Maka merely lamented her own feelings, the ones that she would now have to accept and move on from.

"I love you," Maka said then, and felt him stiffen beside her. "I want you to know that. I'm not sure if it comes from the you I knew before or the you I know now, but I can't change it. Even with everything you've told me, my feelings remain the same." She turned to Soul, her cheeks pink, "I don't want to hurt you either."

Soul watched her in surprise, examining her features closely as he registered her words and their implications. Finally, the wrinkle between his brow smoothed and he gave her a small smile. "Sounds good."

She grinned as brightly as she could given the circumstances and stuck a hand out towards him. "Friends?"

Soul's eyes went from her face to her hand and back again. "You are so weird," he told her with a shake of his head, lips twitching upwards even as he took her hand firmly in his own.

* * *

A/N: Alternate title for chapter 8: _Maka gets friend-zoned._

On another note, Resbang is coming up and I want to focus on that over the summer. My plan is to keep writing Robot's until July 19 (when RB officially starts) before putting it on a temporary hiatus. Hopefully by then I'll be finished but who knows. I've already written chapter 9 and chapter 10 is in the works, so even if I stop writing, updates will continue until all the chapters I've written by that point are posted.

Next chapter in two weeks!

(Thank you to ProMa for the input!)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Tsubaki hadn't been at the meeting.

Soul paced the concrete floor of the common room, hands running through his hair as Maka slept close by, completely oblivious to the world in her tiny moth-bitten bed. Something had to have gone wrong on Tsubaki's end, there wasn't any other explanation. She wouldn't just forget. Even if it was a subconscious desire, she was determined to help in every way she could and would never have purposely done anything that would hinder their efforts. Apprehension twisted in his gut as his mind ran wild with possible scenarios that might sway a woman who was quite literally the _epitome_ of helpfulness.

What was even more worrisome, however, was what _had_ been at the meeting. In place of the buxom woman, a poorly constructed message lay waiting for him upon his arrival into the archives and, though illegible, its make-up vaguely resembled Tsubaki's mental signature.

It was an SOS. He knew this because almost immediately after he'd touched the mental container he had developed a sudden urge to go look for her. It wasn't something that had come from his own desires, and was more like a fabricated inclination - strong enough that he'd had to stop himself on several occasions from going through with it. He smothered the urge with some difficulty, and tried to decide what he would do about it.

If it was actually Tsubaki who had sent the SOS, there wouldn't be a problem. The _real _issue was if it had instead been created by someone who knew their situation and could possibly be trying to lure them into a trap. Unfortunately, knowing Tsubaki like he did, it was unlikely she could have made something so sophisticated (even if it had been poorly designed).

Soul stopped pacing to glare at the door of the room Maka was sleeping in - blissfully unaware while he was stuck wringing his hands like a 50's housewife trying to get _her friends_ out of the labs. Groaning in aggravation, Soul rubbed his face with his palms. Should they risk it by going to find Tsubaki? Or should they stay here and wait for a fucking miracle that was never going to happen?

_Well_, Soul thought grimly as his hands fell back to his sides in defeat, _in for a penny.._.

* * *

"Maka, hurry up, I want to leave before sunrise. We don't have time for your neurotic habit of checking over everything _three times_."

Maka clenched her teeth as she re-stuffed the last of her clothing into the worn backpack and zipped it up. They were standing just inside the main entrance of the caves, the icy morning air easing through the cracks around the door and blowing into them. She sneezed, shivering as she reached up and tied the neck strings of her sweater tighter, still not completely awake ever since Soul had torn away her blankets at the crack of dawn an hour before. In response to the bleary look she'd given him, Soul had simply told her to pack enough provisions to last a week before walking away without a word. If Maka hadn't been so tired she would have bit his bossy head off.

"You know, you still haven't told me where we're going," Maka sniped as she began pulling the straps of her bursting bag over her shoulders.

"We're going to Tsubaki's apartment," Soul replied, arms crossed and leaning against the opposite wall as he watched her impatiently. By the time she had forced herself to get out of bed and get dressed, he'd already been packed and ready to leave in the common room, refolding his diagram (twister mat) as he waited for her. She'd bared her teeth at him when he'd eyed her rumpled appearance with raised eyebrows.

"Is something wrong?" Maka asked now as she kneeled down to tighten up her laces so her boots wouldn't slip when she walked. The strings were torn and ragged from years of constant use, but thankfully still had enough fibres to do their job.

"I'm not sure."

Maka looked up, her hands going still as she gave him an incredulous stare. "What do you mean 'not sure'? You woke me up at three in the morning because you're _not sure_?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Soul replied, "I have this ringing in the the back of my head _that won't go away_ and it feels like Tsubaki. She didn't show up for our meeting and we need the information anyway so this is our best option at the moment."

"It _feels_ like her?" Maka repeated skeptically.

"Yes, and we're not ignoring it just because you're jealous," Soul answered, feeling twitchy due to the foreign inclination that was pushing him to look for his friend.

"I'm not jealous!" she sputtered, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

It had been two days since she'd been ambushed by douche-bag Dennis, time which she'd mostly spent recovering from her more recent collection of ailments. Additionally, it had _also_ been two days since her (perhaps ill-timed) confession. Not that she regretted it, she didn't, but it was definitely weird being "friends" with someone who knew you had romantic feelings towards them. It was even weirder when that someone was a genetically modified cyborg that had hearing so advanced he could listen to your heart beating from across the room. As a result, every time their hands accidentally brushed or he caught her staring or when he'd blatantly _tease_ her about it, her heart rate would pick up and he'd look at her with one eyebrow raised casually (like he was doing_ right now_) as if to say 'really? _again?_'. Then she'd glare at him, completely flustered, and he'd just grin and continue on with whatever he was doing.

Perhaps _frustrating_ was more apt a word.

He dodged the boot she threw at him with a cry of anger, a hidden smile on his lips. "I'm not getting that for you," he told her a moment later, eyeing her one sock covered foot pointedly.

Grumbling, Maka stuck her tongue out at his back as she hopped around him to reach her shoe. Ever since Soul had opened up to her that day, his mood had improved noticeably (aside from his mildly short-tempered attitude this morning), and while she wouldn't go so far as to call him _cheerful_, he was no longer so openly sullen and morose. Maka nudged her boot upright with her toe, stuffed in her foot, and laced it up. If it meant he was happier, she mused, she could deal with his teasing.

Even if it was annoying as hell.

"Ready?"

Maka turned just in time to catch her scythe as Soul tossed it to her. She quickly attached it to her pack and secured the straps. "Ready." Soul opened the door and stepped through, Maka following close behind as they were hit with a rush of wind sprinkled with white flecks.

"It's snowing!" Maka gasped, shoving past Soul who had stopped upon noticing the white streets.

Though snow was rare in Nevada - even with the crazy climate changes that had started due to the recent influx of pollution - it did occasionally occur if the night was cold enough. Soul grunted from behind Maka, obviously displeased, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out into the city. He nudged Maka gently with an elbow in passing and, when she turned, motioned with his head that he wanted her to follow.

The trip through the city went by without incident, the frosty air quiet and still around them. And while the ever present polluted smell kept it from being pleasant, it was far preferable to the stuffy air in the caves. Trailing behind Soul, Maka let her eyes wander, her gaze passing over the empty restaurants, frosted cars, and streetlights that still continued to flicker every so often. The evidence of life was always eerie amidst the absence of it, and somehow the snow only increased this effect.

"Where is this place anyway?" Maka called ahead conversationally after they'd been walking a while. She was currently having a bit of trouble climbing over the hood of a truck that obstructed her path and Soul had stretched the space between them a good hundred metres. Her muscles screamed in protest as she scaled the vehicle, evidently still stiff from her one-sided boxing match with Dennis. Breathing heavy, she looked up to make sure her hopefully subtle yell had stopped Soul from disappearing behind one of the two story homes in the distance and leaving her.

Soul turned around in confusion and froze upon spotting her so far away. At his incredulous look, Maka gave him a half smile and a small wave. "Why the hell are you so far behind?" he shouted back in annoyance.

Maka rolled her eyes. "Why do you think? You're going too fast, idiot!"

Soul sighed in aggravation and stomped towards the hill of smashed cars, hopefully masking the frustrated guilt he felt - because the truth was he'd forgotten all about her in his one-track search for the person who'd planted the fucking urge in his head. If they ever found Tsubaki he was going to seriously kick her ass for making him go through this. Seriously, what ever happened to asking nicely? Soul shoved away the small part in his head that protested the loss of progress.

"I'm fine!" she snapped when he came up beside her, slapping his hand away and sliding off the vehicle herself.

"If you need me to wait just say so," Soul chastised as he watched her slip once before stabilizing. "Is your head okay?"

Maka brushed aside his concerns and marched ahead, patting the snow off her knees as she walked. "I told you I'm fine," she assured over her shoulder. "And you never answered my question."

He rolled his eyes but obediently followed after her, catching up to her easily in just three strides. "She said she was staying in one of the townhouses near the labs. Blueberry Lane or something." Soul eyed the snow-dusted, white picket fence beside them, adding, "We're mostly in the suburban area now so it shouldn't be too far. The pile-up of cars behind us represents the the edges of the city."

"Where are the labs?" Maka asked curiously, blinking away a snowflake that had fallen on her eyelash.

"They're just a couple miles into the desert once you pass the last house in this community," Soul answered, eyes automatically drifting to the white plume that he knew was hiding the outline of the building. "It's closer than you would think."

Maka followed the line of his gaze but saw nothing. "Why would they choose this place?"

"I guess area 51 was full that day."

She looked back at him. "What?"

Soul shook his head. "Never mind."

Maka frowned, continuing to watch him when he turned away. Her eyes moved to a snowflake that had just fallen from his hair to the top of his nose. "Did you know that snow doesn't melt on you?" Maka asked out of the blue, wanting to reach over and brush the snow flake off - and if she wasn't absolutely sure he would flinch away, she would have.

Soul turned to her, and the look he gave was withering. "Has anyone ever told you you need to work on censoring yourself more?"

"What?" Maka asked, confused. "Was that rude or something?"

"You don't think it's a bit of a sensitive subject?"

"No-"

"There it is," Soul interrupted, halting her with a hand on her shoulder and pointing behind her. Apparently not moving fast enough, Soul grabbed her head and turned it in the direction he wanted. "Look."

Shoving him off her with a peeved glare, Maka spotted the faded wooden sign hanging by a thread to it's stand. She squinted. "It says _Black_berry Lane."

"Isn't that what I said?"

"You said _Blueberry_."

Soul shrugged, pushing her by the shoulders towards the townhouse complex when she had stopped to berate him. "Same thing, come on."

* * *

Tsubaki writhed on the floor of the living room, curled into a fetal position as she clutched her head. The pain in her brain was excruciating, like tiny claws digging into her cerebrum and trying to rip it apart. She had just managed to get home from the facility when the pain had increased to a level that had her collapsing on the spot in an unholy scream of pain. She'd tried to contact Soul, entering the archives and leaving a short message but she wasn't sure if it had worked. Her concentration was only enough to allow her mere seconds in the mental plane, barely enough time to plant the rough plea for help at their meeting place before she was torn away. Her fingers wrapped around her hair, trying to keep her mind away from the pain.

"_Does this say 2B or 23?"_

Her eyelids squinted open and she turned her head slightly to stare at the door, listening for the muffled words coming from behind it.

"..._What was the number of the last house?_"

"_I don't know, it was too faded to see."_

"So..." Tsubaki tried to call out, but only a squeak left her lips. Tears fell from her eyes for the first time in years, and she swallowed in attempt to sooth her hoarse voice.

"_Hey what are you-"_

_"Shh!" _Footsteps hurried up the wooden porch outside, followed by a hard knock on the door. "_Tsubaki_?"

"_She's inside?_" The female voice asked.

"_Yeah, I hear her_," he replied. "_Tsubaki!_"

Tsubaki inhaled shakily to respond, but the words stuck in her throat. Her teeth clenched as something tried to burst through her mind, a pressure that was building but only succeeded in pulling harder on the hooks in her brain.

"_Screw it_."

"_What are you-"_

The door ripped off it's hinges, slamming flat against the ground beside her. A flurry of snow followed a second later, whirling around her living room and blowing her hair off her face.

Maka sucked in a breath as she spotted the woman collapsed on the ground. She was shivering violently, staring up at them with half-lidded eyes and chattering teeth. As Maka and Soul rushed into the house, the woman - Tsubaki - tensed and opened her mouth like she was trying to speak but no words left her lips. Her blue eyes were following Soul as he threw his backpack aside and fell to his knee beside her. He cupped her face in his hands.

Maka bent down and picked up the door with a grunt, clumsily propping it against the entrance so it blocked the cold weather. Shaking the snow out of her hair, she knelt down on the woman's other side. "Is she having a seizure?" Maka asked worriedly.

"I don't know... Tsubaki can you hear me?" There was a faint movement of her head, though it was hard to tell if it was a deliberate or not with the force of her trembling.

"She was holding her head, is there any bleeding?"

"We don't bleed," Soul muttered distractedly, but his fingers moved around her head anyway, feeling for punctures. When he found nothing, he exhaled in frustration and gently turned Tsubaki's head till she faced him. "Tsubaki, tell me what's happening."

"Hurts..." she wheezed.

"What hurts?"

Blinking back tears, Tsubaki choked out the next word. "Brain."

Maka looked up at Soul with a worried frown, but his face was carefully blank as he stared down at the quivering woman. "I need you to tell me what happened when the pain started. It would've been something significant."

Tsubaki was silent awhile, as though thinking of her response carefully. When her mouth finally opened, Maka leaned in closer, her head brushing Soul's as she waited to hear Tsubaki's words with bated breath.

"Washing walls..."

A moment passed and no one moved. In the background the door ground in protest as it was hit with a strong wind.

"...Washing walls?" Maka repeated in confusion, wondering if she'd heard right. She turned to Soul. "Is that code for something?" she whispered.

"No. She means it literally," Soul muttered dryly, inwardly reminding himself to be patient with Tsubaki.

He ignored the bewildered look Maka was giving him and continued more clearly, "Did you speak with anyone?"

Tsubaki considered, then nodded.

"Tell me."

"Black...star..."

"Blackstar?" Maka interrupted before Soul could reply, moving closer so she was in Tsubaki's line of site. She was resting her weight on Soul's arms - his hands still holding Tsubaki's face - and she imagined he was probably glaring daggers at the back of her head but she didn't care. "Did you say Blackstar?"

Tsubaki twitched and gave another nod.

Soul managed to shove Maka away with a warning glare before turning once again to Tsubaki. "What did you talk about?" he asked.

Brows furrowing, Tsubaki's eyes glazed over as she responded breathlessly, "...Whitestar..."

Soul nodded absently to signal he understood, as though he had already expected the answer and was resigned to it, and released Tsubaki's face - which she promptly curled back into her arms as he leaned away. Shaking out the remaining snowflakes from his hair with his fingers, still completely solid because of his cool body temperature, Soul gave a weary sigh. His expression was grim, and the small amount of hope Maka had achieved after learning that Blackstar was okay vanished. "What is it?" she asked hesitantly.

Soul rubbed his eyes. "I think the emotional blocks in her mind are collapsing." He sounded weary.

"Like what happened with you?'

He nodded.

Maka scrutinized his face, confused. "But isn't that a good thing?"

"Normally I would say yes, but unfortunately right now isn't the best time," he responded, hands falling back into his lap as he watched the woman in question whimper and moan. He swallowed, his tone worried when he added, "And it shouldn't be lasting this long."

"What are you talking about?"

He finally looked over at her. "When the blocks fully break off, it's extremely painful, but it's also over pretty quickly. The sensation is just a reaction from the sensory neurons, no damage is actually done to the brain and so there shouldn't be any residual pain."

Maka's eyebrows scrunched together as she took in his words. "So you think they've started to break away, but are somehow still clinging?"

A nod. "For the blocks to disintegrate, it takes a very strong reaction coupled with years of emotional build-up. Whatever triggered hers must not have been enough to completely destroy them... or maybe in the past decade her blocks hadn't grown as weak as mine."

Maka looked down at Tsubaki, whose shiny black hair trailed behind her like a dark waterfall, a stark and exotic contrast against her white skin. Her eyes were currently squeezed shut, but Maka knew from earlier that they were a pretty dark blue that sparkled despite her pain. She was so achingly beautiful, like a fragile china doll that was too close to breaking.

Biting her lip nervously, Maka reached over and placed a tentative hand on Tsubaki's pale shoulder, squeezing it lightly in a feeble attempt at comfort. She'd never been great at consoling other people, but the curled up, child-like woman somehow incited feelings of sympathy in her that created a sort of pseudo maternal instinct. The same thing had happened once before when she'd found a baby bird with a broken wing on the street. At least Tsubaki seemed to be-

Maka shrieked as Tsubaki's claw-like hand reached up and grabbed hers tightly. She looked up frantically at Soul but he just shrugged as if to say "you got into this mess" and leaned back casually to rest on his hands, legs kicking out in front of him to get comfortable. Good for nothing piece of...

"Ack!" Maka squeaked and looked down. Tsubaki was now slowly reeling her in by the arm, curling further around the limb the closer she was pulled. Instinctively, Maka resisted, tugging on her arm and scrambling back as best she could with jerky movements. No match for the cyborg's advanced strength, Maka soon found herself sprawled beside the shivering woman with two arms clamped tightly around her waist.

Gasping as the restraining hold pushed the air out of her lungs, Maka struggled to sit up. The thin arms were like steel bands around her ribcage (which she belatedly remembered that they probably were), squeezing in a bruising display of fear and desperation. With the situation escalated, Soul gave her a look of concern and moved as if to extract Tsubaki but Maka shook her head and waved him off. Then, with an unattractive grunt and a great deal of effort, she managed to push herself into a sitting position - the air flooding back into her lungs now that she was upright. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Maka stared down at the dark head uncertainly and without thinking began to awkwardly pet Tsubaki's soft hair. Her fingers twined within the silky strands and stroked down the length of her back gently.

"It's okay," Maka told her, not sure what else to say, as her eyes quickly darted to Soul's nervously, shrugging with a shake of her head to signal she had no idea what she was doing. "...You're alright."

And like these simple words were a catalyst, Tsubaki erupted in simultaneous laughing and sobbing against her stomach. "_AAAAAhahahhHA!" _Maka cringed at the horrible, inhuman sound - loud and painful in her ears like the sad cackling of a manic woman. The force of Tsubaki's tremors wracked through them both, and Maka could do nothing but hold her tighter. When she turned to Soul in confusion, Maka was surprised that he appeared relieved.

"What's happening?" she asked, teeth chattering from the tremors as tears dampened the thin fabric of her shirt. Her muscles were tired from disuse and began to seize up, but Maka ignored the small discomfort and continued to cradle the woman in her arms. At this point, she wasn't sure if she _could_ extract herself from Tsubaki - so shaken from the ordeal that she had at some point began to cling back just as hard.

"The blocks are gone. This is just the result of her emotional pathways realigning. It can be a bit overwhelming," Soul explained.

"_A bit_?"

"It'll be over soon," Soul assured, standing up to collect his bag.

"Where are you going!?" Maka cried, the stranger in her arms tightening her hold in response to Maka's sudden tension.

He waved at her. "I'll be back soon don't worry." And like it was that simple, he marched deeper into Tsubaki's house without listening to the protests she shouted at his back.

Shit. "We don't need him," Maka grated under the agonizing sounds of combined despair and joy being directed against her belly. Realizing she had stopped, Maka began combing the soft hairs off Tsubaki's face once more, detangling the inky strands with her fingers. They rocked together in the middle of the barren room as the hysterical crying and laughing resounded against the musty walls.

It felt like forever, but the trembling did finally slow and the noises of distress faded. Maka breathed out in relief as Tsubaki gave a final shudder before collapsing into her lap in a tired heap. Tsubaki's arms fell away from around Maka's waist, and simply laid where she was, finding comfort in the rhythmic touch of another person.

"Thank you." The breathy words were spoken against Maka's stomach.

"You're welcome," Maka responded with a pleased smile, her answering whisper just as quiet.

* * *

"So do you feel any differently?"

Tsubaki and Maka both paused what they were doing and looked over to see Soul calmly walk into the kitchen through the narrow doorway, his bag tucked neatly under his arm. Maka took a moment to shoot him a quick glare before she finished helping Tsubaki sit down in one of the plastic kitchen chairs. She had only _just_ managed to extract herself from beneath Tsubaki and had since convinced the shaken woman to move into the kitchen where it'd be a bit more comfortable. Her task complete, Maka slumped in a chair to Tsubaki's left with a tired groan.

Soul sat down beside Maka, who had decided to rest her head in her arms on top of the table - emotionally and physically drained from her episode with his crazy robot friend. On the other side of the table, Tsubaki hesitated with her answer. "Well..."

"Someone should say a joke," Maka interjected, head popping up suddenly - energy back.

Soul, who had just finished pulling off his backpack and was now leaning back in his seat, gave her a look halfway between incredulous and disgusted. "What?"

She ignored him and turned to Tsubaki, suddenly eager for reasons neither of her companions could comprehend. "Okay, so two atoms are walking down the street, right? The first atom says, 'Hey, you just stole an electron from me!', so the second one asks, 'Are you sure?' and then first atom replies, 'Yeah, _I'm positive!_'" Maka held her breath with a grin, waiting for laughter.

There was a long moment of silence in which both of them just stared at her, then Soul asked finally, "Atoms...? Weren't you ten when the war started?"

"There was a scientist that slept in the room next to mine," she shrugged. "We were friends so he let me read his textbooks."

This seemed to only condemn her further in his eyes. "Which you read _voluntarily_? To make _puns_?"

"Shut up," Maka snapped defensively. "It wasn't like there was much else to do. Did you like the joke?"

"No, it was awful."

She kicked him under the table. "I wasn't asking you!"

Tsubaki rubbed her face. "Stop fighting, please."

Maka turned back to face the dark-eyed beauty. "So, did it work?"

Tsubaki sighed, closing her eyes. "I feel frustrated, and angry, and sad. Unfortunately, your joke wasn't enough to push those feelings aside. That said, I think it's safe to say that my emotions have returned."

"You don't sound happy about it," Maka observed.

Tsubaki smiled, but it was a sad one. "A lot of things have happened. While I wouldn't go so far as to say I wish they were gone again, it still hurts."

Soul watched the once vibrant, cheerful woman as she sat hunched over in her plastic chair. This was the first time he'd really seen her in person since she'd been dragged away from their cell all those years ago. For the most part, she appeared unchanged, her features the same as they'd been the decade before, frozen in time like they'd all been. The years had, however, taken their toll in other ways - her eyes were now haunted, her shoulders hunched, her hair messy around her face. Even the colour of her skin had greyed. From the corner of his eye he could see Maka staring at him with exaggerated wide eyes like she wanted him to say something. He couldn't imagine why she would think anything he said would help.

"Did you get everything?" he asked Tsubaki, changing the subject.

"Do you have paper?" was her instant and calm reply.

Soul reached down and unzipped his bag, tugged out the diagram of the labs, and flattened it out on the table.

Tsubaki stared down at it, paused, then, "...Is this the bottom of a twister mat?"

And, of course, Maka burst out laughing. Without looking at her, Soul reached over and slapped his hand over her mouth, his other hand clasping behind her head to keep her in place when she began to wiggle. "Yes," he intoned as she viciously clawed at his arm. Soul shot her an irritated look when she kicked him under the table again.

Tsubaki's eyes moved between them curiously, a thoughtful look in her eye, before focusing her attention on the drawing.

"Here," she said, interrupting the spat across the table. Tsubaki pointed to a small box near the top of the building. "Here is the best way to get in."

Soul let Maka go and leaned over the map. When he saw where she'd planted her finger, he frowned, sceptical. "The roof?"

Tsubaki nodded. "It's the only place the cameras can be adjusted to ensure a complete blind spot." She looked up at him. "This can be done from within the control room, which is also where I will lower the prisoner cell doors once you're in. After that, it's only a matter of getting everyone out."

"Will there be enough time for over a hundred people to escape?" Maka asked as she too leaned over the picture.

Tsubaki frowned, eyes darting to Maka. "A hundred...?" She looked back at Soul in confusion but he was carefully avoiding her gaze. Weariness crept in her as Tsubaki turned back to Maka, who's desperate eyes bored into her own, filled with a mix of determination and anxiety. It was easy to see why Soul had lied, but he had to see he wasn't doing Maka any favours. Carefully as she could, Tsubaki said, "There are only twenty people left who are still considered human."

Maka was clever, knowing instantly with a sharp pain in her chest that she'd been lied to - but she still shook her head vehemently in denial. Eyes hard and glistening, Maka stood up jerkily, her chair scraping loudly against the tile in the quiet room as it was push back. She planted her hands on the table and grated, "No. The are still 150 people in there. _Soul_," his name was growled between her teeth as she pointed a finger at him, "_said so_."

"As of yesterday, 79 people have gone into surgery. 26 people survived their change and the other 117 people perished due to unforeseen circumstances," Tsubaki told her gently. "I've looked through their records, and this has actually been one of the more successful operations. Casualties are usually closer to 80%."

A thick silence followed in which Maka clenched her teeth and leaned back, fisted hands returning to her sides. When she finally looked over at Soul, she found him staring out the window with a blank expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You're an asshole," she hissed, turned without a second glance, and walked away. A second later they could hear her pull the door away from the entrance before replacing it. Her footsteps echoed in the distance, till they too faded.

Soul, who had turned to watched her leave as soon as her eyes were off him, continued to stare at the place he'd last seen her.

"Who is she?" Tsubaki asked, watching his profile with interest.

"One of the survivors from the Deathcity caves."

"I meant _to you_."

He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it, his brows furrowing. After several seconds he turned to her and replied honestly, "It's complicated."

* * *

Maka sat hunched over on Tsubaki's porch steps quietly, watching as the snow slowly faded from the sky in the early morning light till eventually nothing fell at all. In the distance she could see the outline of the city, and even though it wasn't very far, the pollution was extensive enough to provide a sickly silhouette of the skeletal buildings. If she squinted, she could even make out the tallest building in the centre of the city, bent at a queer angle in the distance, though it still stretched to the sky. From so far away it looked like a collapsing giant that had been frozen mid-fall, reaching for the heavens with a single outstretched claw.

The door opened behind her, and she heard the loud creaking of footsteps against the old porch as Soul approached. Her neck tingled when he stopped behind her and a moment later he dropped her heavy coat over her head. "You forgot this."

"You are such an asshole," she muttered, her voice muffled by the fabric.

"So I've been told," Soul answered, sitting down stiffly beside her. He followed her gaze to the smoggy outline of Death City. "Haven't you ever heard the saying that you'll gain weight if you think too hard?"

Maka pushed the coat off her head and glared at him. "That's not true."

Soul shrugged. "It's what my mom used to say. It was her excuse whenever she wanted to get out of doing something."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're just mentioning your mom because you knew it'd catch my attention."

He smiled at her, his jagged teeth flashing behind his lips. "Maybe. Did it work?"

Grumbling under her breath, Maka rested her chin on her folded arms and scowled out at the faded houses. Barely a minute passed before she relented. "What was she like?"

"Stiff, formal, bitchy at times. She was okay, I guess, but distant."

"You weren't close?"

He shook his head. "The only person in my family I was remotely close to was my grandmother."

Sensing it was a touchy subject, Maka let it drop, her eyes traveling above the houses, trying to find a hint of the labs that Soul had told her laid in the desert. Tonight was the night they would get her friends out, even if she had to kick a hundred alien asses, she would get her friends out of that sick place and back home where they belonged. She leaned her head against the wood railing. "What time are we leaving?"

"Tsubaki switched with someone to get her shift at seven. We'll leave the house half an hour later to give her enough time to ensure we can get in without being seen. After that, we'll sneak in from the roof, clearing a path for the survivors when Tsubaki lowers their cell doors."

"Why seven?"

"It's dark enough outside that we won't be easily spotted, and it's before they release gas into the cells to put the prisoners to sleep."

Her eyes closed, not really minding that they'd set up the plan without her. She didn't know anything about the place, and wouldn't have been able to provide too much input. "I hope you know I'm still mad at you. I'll probably be mad for a long time."

"I know."

"You lied to me."

"Yeah."

"Don't do it again," Maka turned to him with a hard stare. "I don't care if I have a fit, I don't care if I won't like it. Don't. Lie. To. Me."

Soul just watched her calmly, sensing there was more. There was.

"I know why you did it, and if I was you I'd probably do the same considering the state I was in at the time, but I'm still mad."

"That's okay," Soul shrugged. "We're friends, right? Friends fight."

She offered him a small smile, nodding her head.

"And there's one other thing," Soul added before she could turn away.

"What's that?" Maka asked, frowning.

Soul leaned over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. As he'd expected, her heart picked up like a jackrabbit as her wide-eyed face flushed red. He grinned wickedly as he moved away. "_You_ love me."

No matter how many times Maka punched him, Soul wouldn't stop laughing.

* * *

A/N: Progress report: I've (sort of) written chapter 10, I've (sort of) written chapter 11, chapter 12 has been planned out and is being written, and the epilogue is still but a twinkle in mine eyes. All in all, I am pretty optimistic that I'll be able to finish before Resbang.

Also, a shout out to Professor Maka for beta-ing this chapter! You make me a beta writer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Is it time?"

Soul, who had been staring out at the sun hanging low in the sky, a fading sliver in the distant horizon that offered little light and no warmth, turned around to face Maka. Her hair was a mess - a blonde ratty halo around her head - and her voice was hoarse from sleep as she walked into the kitchen with a yawn. An hour before Tsubaki had left, Maka decided to have a quick nap so she'd be refreshed for the rescue mission. Unfortunately, her plan seemed to have backfired on her. She looked worse than before.

"Nearly," Soul responded. He reached over to pick up a luke warm mug off the counter and handed it to her. "We'll leave in about ten minutes. You ready?"

"For the most part." Maka took the offered cup from his hand and frowned down at the dark contents. She sniffed the thick liquid and pulled back with a jolt. "Is this coffee?" she asked him, holding it away from her and making a face.

Soul nodded, turning back to stare once more out the scratched up window. "Tsubaki made it for you before she left. You should drink it so you don't hurt her feelings."

"Is it safe?" he heard behind him, the words hesitant.

"Probably. It'll keep you awake in any case."

With a grimace, Maka took a healthy swig from the plastic cup and immediately came up coughing. "Oh God," she spat, rushing over to the sink and pouring the toxic sludge into the drain. "...That's worse than I thought it'd be."

Soul grinned, holding back a snicker. "I would imagine, it _did _expire ten years ago."

"And you couldn't warn me?"

His gaze met hers as she joined him by the window, matching her scowl with his own teasing expression. "My bad," he said, shrugging carelessly. Maka rolled her eyes, grumbling curses under her breath as she moved to the opposite counter to grab her bag. She unzipped the front pouch and pulled out two hair bands. After combing her fingers through her knotted hair in jerking motions, she deftly tied up the strands as neatly as she could.

"Let's just go now," she called over her shoulder, zipping the pocket back up. "I don't think I can wait much longer."

"We'll just be waiting there if we do," Soul pointed out, though he too began to collect his stuff from around the kitchen. When he grabbed his gun, he checked the cartridge quickly before shoving spare bullets in the pocket closest to his holster. After a second thought, he grabbed two more guns from his bag and stuffed them in the back of his jeans. A moment passed and he also grabbed a knife just in case.

If Maka heard the walking arsenal at work behind her, she didn't mention it. "That's fine," she said. "I just want to get going." Her words were spoken with a careless nonchalance, but the truth was that a nervous giddiness was swirling around like an unconfined storm in her chest - a crazy mixture of excitement and trepidation that had erupted at the the thought of the coming mission. Her friends would be free, everyone would get to come home, everything would _finally go back to normal._ All they had to do was go and get everyone. Maka smiled, chest expanding as she took a deep breath and let it out in a great huff.

Soul, on the other hand, felt like a complete wreck - not that anyone would have known by looking at him. If Maka knew what he was feeling at that moment, all her confidence in the success of the rescue would instantly vanish and the whole thing would go to shit. For that reason, he hid his feelings on the matter, smothered the shakes he was getting, and tried to push away the memories that had begun to resurface. Why the hell was he doing this anyways? It wasn't like it was _his _friends that were stuck in the fucking place, and he wasn't selfless enough to risk his life for total strangers.

He looked up when he saw Maka twirl around to face him from the corner of his eye. "Well, well..." he remarked dryly, noticing the sparkle in her eye with a sort of half smile. "Aren't _you_ an eager beaver?"

She only grinned with a shrug. "So are we leaving?"

Soul exhaled, his breath catching strangely, but nodded. "Yeah let's go." With one last look into the house, Soul led them both towards the heart of the building where he'd been tortured within an inch of his life.

* * *

Tsubaki's mental clock told her it was exactly 7:27, which meant Soul and Maka would be arriving soon. She rechecked the security camera positions to make sure their entrance was in a blind spot, then flipped through the security schedule. Sitting back now that she'd looked everything over, her eyes moved to the monitor which displayed Blackstar's cell.

Tsubaki tapped her fingers on the desk absently, trying to decide whether or not to tell him about the plan. When she'd asked Soul his opinion he'd gotten that cringing look he always had whenever Blackstar was mentioned (not that she blamed him, he _did_ have a good reason), and told her to do what she thought was best - he didn't really care. Her eyes drifted to the door. As far as she knew, no one else was on this level of the building and she was set for a night shift, so her replacement wouldn't get here till morning. Even if getting caught wasn't a consideration, she wasn't certain how to act around her fiancé's baby brother now that she was _aware_ of the fact and actually cared about it.

Her heart fell at the mental reminder of a past that had slipped through her fingers so long ago. The last several hours had been hard for her, the memories of the previous decade intertwined with all the stunted feelings - the thoughts, the actions, the mannerisms - that weren't her own. It was like she'd been a completely different person, simply _existing _in a world she couldn't hope to comprehend. And while this was horrible on its own, she could only be thankful circumstances hadn't lead her into a situation in which she could have hurt someone; because the truth was that the scientists hadn't built "robots", or even turned them into a superior race. They'd created _psychopaths_ with all the tools necessary to kill. Something bad had happened to Soul, she knew, could tell by the haunted look in his eye as they'd sat together in silence. It hurt her to see him so somber, and if the guilty glances he shot Maka when she wasn't looking were any indication, whatever had happened was likely the reason he was helping the young woman to such an extent.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tsubaki slapped her hand down on the table to stop the twitch. An aggravated sigh and an anxious glance at the screen later, she stood up to leave the room before she could change her mind. She stopped when the image in the monitor registered, her head darting back to the screen as cold dread crept like a sickness into her chest.

Her breath hitched and her hand rose to her mouth.

Everyone was asleep.

Had the motion lights not gone off by the time she'd briefly checked the screen she never would have noticed, but now that they had she could make out the unconscious and unmoving bodies. Panicking, Tsubaki darted to the notes of the previous supervisor buried beneath hundreds of other papers. She flipped through the pages frantically.

_Put to sleep early due to heightened levels of distress._

Her chest hurt from the foreign pounding of her heart, which she rubbed absently as her eyes rose once more to the grainy screens. The plan was to lower the cell doors once Maka and Soul got in, who would then herd the survivors out the way they'd come in before the scientists working on the lower levels of of the building noticed that the cell doors had been opened. Even with Blackstar's help - who fortunately continued to show resistance to the drug - there was no way they could haul everyone out before they were caught.

She could manually turn off the constant flow of gas into the cells before their timers went off, but that would risked attracting attention sooner. Wringing her hands because it was an old habit and right now she just didn't care, Tsubaki tried to think of what to do.

* * *

"You okay?"

Soul breathed through his nose, clenching his fingers to stop their trembling. "Fine."

Maka gave him an odd look that he ignored, his attention on the electronic pad that was securing the small window that would act as their entrance. He was using a knife to pry off the outer casing, forcing the blade beneath the edges and pulling. With a final tug it broke off, and Soul heard Maka sigh in relief from behind him. Sticking the handle of the dagger between his teeth, Soul handed the thick piece of metal back to Maka before focusing on the wiring he'd revealed.

It was a bit different from what Tsubaki had described but fortunately the general idea was the same. Gently, Soul pulled back the outermost wiring to reveal the small circle at the back of the pad. Holding the wires in place with one hand, Soul took the knife out of his mouth and carefully pressed the blade into the slightly raised surface until it pierced the skin deep within the centre. Soul leaned back and stared expectantly at the window.

_Click._

He turned his head to flash Maka a quick grin which she promptly returned with a beaming smile. Stuffing the knife back in his bag without looking, Soul kicked it aside and moved over so he was in front of the window. He then carefully slid his fingers behind the frame and pulled the whole thing out in a single tug.

"How far down is it?" Maka asked, trying to peer over his shoulder. "It's so dark I can't see."

Setting aside the small window, Soul dusted off his hands and stuck his head through the hole. "Six feet, maybe? Good thing we brought the rope ladder."

"Told you," Maka remarked smugly as she dug out the ladder from her backpack and placed it in his outstretched hand.

"Not my fault you're friends can't jump for shit," he shot back, unraveling the rope and tying it to a large metal tube spewing out black smoke behind them.

"You sure that'll hold?"

Soul looked at her then back to the cylinder. He pushed it with a finger and it rattled under the pressure. He shrugged, "It should be fine... but maybe we'll jump down just to be safe."

"It _should be fine_?"

"Depends if you live with a lot of fat people."

"This is going _great_ so far," Maka muttered.

"Bite me," Soul shot back before sticking his legs through the entrance and jumping through. The fall was a bit more than he'd expected and he had to swallow a curse when he landed harder than he'd like. Wincing at the echoing sound, Soul looked up to see Maka staring down at him.

He motioned with a hand for her to follow. "It's more like seven feet, by the way."

Screwing her face up, Maka pulled her head out and tossed both their bags down to Soul. A moment later she was shimmying through feet first on her belly. Soul watched as she slid down the wall, nearly falling back on her rear before righting herself. She squinted in the dark and Soul, who could see perfectly, grinned as she waved her arms in front of her.

He grabbed her hand when she approached, grinning further when she blushed. He opened his mouth to tease her - which was quickly becoming a bad habit of his - but froze when his ears picked up a nearby sound approaching.

Feeling him grow tense beside her in the darkness, Maka also stilled. "Someone's coming," Soul explained in a whisper, leading her towards a corner that put them out of sight if the door opposite them opened. Soon Maka could hear it too, soft footsteps that grew louder and louder. She sucked in a breath and pulled out the small knife she brought to hold in front of her, feeling virtually useless when everything was so dark around her.

Soul slowly pulled his gun from its holster, allowing Maka to grab on to his jacket as he raised the weapon with both hands and aimed it forewords.

The door burst open and someone fell through, bringing with them a flash of florescent light that nearly blinded Maka.

"Tsubaki?" Soul blurted, hands lowering as he watched the frazzled woman look to them and sigh in stark relief. Soul ignored the groans of pain behind him and holstered his gun.

"Thank goodness," Tsubaki murmured, closing the door behind her and leaning over to flick on a light switch.

"What are you doing here?" Soul asked her, frowning. "You're suppose to be at the control centre." He didn't like the panic that twisted her features, also knew he wouldn't like whatever had caused it.

Maka blinked away the light from her eyes and moved so that she could see Tsubaki. "We're in a supply closet?" she muttered to herself when she looked around them, taken aback by the surprisingly normal janitorial equipment. She'd kind of been expected something less mundane and more... sinister.

"The prisoners, they're all asleep," Tsubaki gasped, her hands clasped together to keep from trembling. "They started gassing them earlier today and now they are _all _asleep."

"Asleep?" Maka choked, turning back to Tsubaki with wide eyes. "We can't get everyone out if they're asleep."

"I know, I'm sorry, it was before I got here... had I known beforehand..."

"How long till they wake up?"

"That's the thing, even if we were somehow able to stop the flow while also escaping notice, it would still take at least... fifteen minutes before the chemical begins to lose its effect."

"The control panel?" Soul prompted, sounding pained. He'd closed his eyes and was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"From there I can turn it off, sure, but we'd get caught long before they'd wake up. We can't tip our hand until we're ready to get everyone out."

Soul exhaled slowly then looked up at the other two. "We'll have to postpone. We can regroup and try again tomorrow night."

"No!" Maka protested, gritting her teeth. "We're already here and by tomorrow who knows how many people will have died. There must be a way to get by this."

"There is no other way Maka-"

"There is." It was Tsubaki who interrupted Soul, immediately catching their attention with her soft spoken words. She looked up from her tightly laced fingers to their confused faces. "After I found out, I went through the files I stole the other day. It will be difficult, but I think there is a way."

Maka brightened, but Soul remained unconvinced, muttering, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Ignoring him, Tsubaki carefully explained, "The gas is distributed through interconnected vents that run over each of the cells. They merge together in a small room where the gas is siphoned into them. If we can get to that point, there is a valve installed for emergencies that will allow us to manually stop the smoke at its source without sending any unnecessary electronic messages to the scientists. A safety latch was installed to keep it closed."

"Perfect! Let's do that!" Maka said, her eyes darting between the other two.

They weren't looking at her though. In fact, Tsubaki's eyes were watching Soul's intently even as she spoke to Maka. "But Soul and I are both too heavy to travel through the vents. The steel around our bones has tripled our weight." She turned to Maka. "You'll have to do it."

"No problem," was her immediate and confident response.

"You don't even know where to go," Soul cut in rudely, his arms crossed over his chest. "Even if you did, you would be wading through the fumes. How the hell are you suppose to stay awake?"

"The fumes are directed by a fan, we'd put her in a vent that is out of the fans direction. There is no chance of them effecting her. She would be perfectly safe."

Soul shook his head. "No, I don't like this - too many things could go wrong. It's no use risking your life when we can just as easily come back another time."

Tsubaki grabbed his arm suddenly in a tight grip. Soul frowned down at her hand before looking up to meet her gaze in confusion. She opened her mouth, but it was several moments before she managed to speak, "...Blackstar is scheduled to be changed tomorrow. _Please_ Soul."

"Fuck..." he breathed, his eyes still connected with Tsubaki's. "_Fuck_." His hand ran through his hair as he turned, trying to think. Soul then abruptly whirled back around to face her. "He's not his brother, Tsubaki. You can't just - "

"_Soul_," Maka grated behind them.

He looked over at Maka with hard eyes - a stare she met evenly with her own seething gaze. When her resolve failed to waver after several moments, Soul sighed. "Fine, okay. _Fuck_... okay. We'll do it, but I swear to God Maka, you better not get stuck in there."

Tsubaki allowed herself a moment to feel the relief wash through her, shoulders deflating as she sighed, before she steeled herself once more. "Come on then, we have to hurry. Maka you can leave your bag here." Tsubaki turned off the light and squeezed her head through the door before opening it wider and beckoning Soul and Maka foreword. "I'll show you to the vent you'll enter through, but I have to return to the control room right after."

Maka looked around the hallways they'd entered. It was surprising how normal everything looked, like they were all just walking through an ordinary building. The "slippery when wet" sign she'd just passed didn't exactly scream evil. She turned her head to see how Soul was taking it but he wasn't looking at her, his shoulders tense as he warily watched their surroundings.

"The ventilation shaft is a bit of a maze, Maka," Tsubaki began, looking back at her as she walked, causing Maka's head to swivel to the other woman. "You'll have to remember the sequence of left and rights I tell you. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, I'm good at that stuff."

A few minutes of winding through the adjoining corridors, Tsubaki stopped them in front of a vent planted high on the wall. "Here it is," she told them and Soul immediately took out his knife and moved towards it. "I can't stay, unfortunately. Remember Maka, left, right-"

"Left, right, right, left. I got it, Tsubaki, don't worry," Maka smiled.

"Take this just in case," Tsubaki said, pulling a small device from her pocket. "It's a communicator. I have the one that goes with it, so if you need to contact me, just press this button here and I will be able to hear you."

Maka took it with a grateful smile and stuffed it down into her bra. "Thank you," she smiled, patting where it rested between her breasts.

Tsubaki nodded, her hands shaking like they'd taken to doing lately. She seemed to be hesitating as she stared at Maka, unsure of what to do with herself. Finally, Tsubaki reached over,grabbed Maka's hand, and held it so tight for a moment that she winced. "Thank you for doing this."

The pain was forgotten as Maka returned the solemn stare in surprise. "They're my friends," she said simply. "I'll always help them."

"I know," Tsubaki replied with a sad smile before quickly shaking her head and letting go of Maka. "I have to go back to the control room, no one should be on this level but keep watch anyway. Please be safe; both of you." With a wave over her shoulder, Tsubaki ran down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

"Why does she care so much about Blackstar?" Maka asked in confusion.

Soul paused a moment before continuing to unscrew the metal bolts with the blade. "Caught that did you?"

"Yeah."

He shot a quick glance in the direction Tsubaki had disappeared. "He reminds her of Whitestar. He's all she has left to remember her fiancé by. She also thinks it's what Whitestar would have wanted. Which I suppose is true."

Maka watched Soul work as she considered his words. Licking her lips, she began cautiously, "Hey, I've been wondering... where is Whitestar?"

"He's dead."

Maka's breathed hitched and her eyes widened. "What-"

"Done." Soul pulled off the metal screen and placed it on the ground. He looked back at her, his face carefully blank. "Are you ready?"

Sensing she wouldn't get anything more out of him, Maka nodded, took the knife he offered, and stuck it between her teeth. She put one hand on his shoulder, stepped into his cupped hands, and allowed him to lift her up into the vent. It was a tight squeeze, and she had to do a fair amount of wiggling to get even the tiniest bit inside.

"You okay?" she heard behind her when she'd managed to climb halfway in.

Maka grunted, trying to pull herself inside the tight space. She spat out the knife and called, "I may need a push." Soul snorted and reached up to grab her legs; he shoved her in so hard that she hit her head. "_Easy_!"

"Sorry," he replied, though he didn't sound at all apologetic. When her feet were completely in, Soul replaced the screen. "I'm putting this back on in case anyone comes, but the screws are loose enough that you can just kick it out."

"Got it."

"Be careful, okay? If you have any trouble turn around and come back."

"Mhmm," Maka hummed, already shuffling away from him. He felt a bit like a nagging mother as he watched her wiggle away, but he _knew_ this was a shitty idea and it was going to bite them in the ass some way. They'd just have to trust that Tsubaki knew her shit.

Soul sighed and his eyes moved down to the backpack he'd thrown against the wall. His fingers drummed absently against his pant leg before finally he walked over and picked it up, unzippingthe top hastily to reveal the explosives he'd placed inside beneath packets of ammo. He'd found them in the caves and brought them without telling either Maka or Tsubaki. When he'd seen the miniature bombs, the idea of blowing the place to hell had been too sweet to ignore.

Soul looked from the bag to the vent Maka had disappeared into and back again. Gripping the straps tightly in his fist, Soul jerkily zipped it closed, threw it over his shoulder, and ran determinedly down the hall.

He wouldn't let the building that had birthed so many of his nightmares continue to stand.

* * *

Maka grunted loudly as she moved slowly but surely through the cramped metal shaft. The surface beneath her creaked and groaned and _screamed_ with each and every movement, no matter how miniscule, and she was beginning to worry that it was going to give out on her. Also on her growing list of problems was the fact that the space was _much_ smaller than she'd initially been led to believe, barely an inch of room allotted on either side of her shoulders, and she'd lost count of how many times she'd banged her head. Maka wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed. Thankfully, she was at least making good time and was on her last corner - one which would hopefully lead her directly to the source of the sedating smoke.

When she reached the turning point, Maka grabbed the edge and pulled herself around with gritted teeth. She winced at the loud protests beneath her. The louder the nerve wracking creaks grew, the more she quickened her pace, desperate now to get out of the claustrophobic air duct. Wind blew suddenly in her sweat dampened face and she looked up to see the vent open up into a small room.

"Thank God," Maka breathed gratefully, fingers wrapping around the lip and sliding herself foreword till she tumbled over the side and landed ungracefully into a bed of sophisticated looking wires.

Shaking her head, Maka awkwardly righted herself and examined the space around her. It was a round room, not of an overly large diameter, and was filled with cords of a vibrant blue that covered the walls like curling, metal vines. They rose high up in the room, so high in fact that when Maka followed them up, they disappeared into a seemingly infinite darkness. Her eyes soon caught sight of the large plumes of opaque, twisting smoke that were being emitted from a giant hole in the wall, one partially hidden by the blue tinged wires. Most of the large white plumes were blown into a pipe on the opposite wall by a whizzing fan, but some disobedient tendrils twisted upwards to be lost in the abyss above. Maka's eyes drifted away from the strangely beautiful scene and back down to the wire bed. It wasn't difficult to spot the lever Tsubaki had described to her; it was nestled among the tangled mess, partially hidden by the knotted cords.

Rising to her knees, Maka shuffled over to the protruding switch, ripping the clinging wires from the base to grab hold of it firmly. With gritted teeth, she pulled the lever towards herself with every bit of strength she possessed and watched the large hole above constrict in tandem with the pole inching closer and closer to her chest. With a final burst of strength, shetugged it the rest of the way down and flipped the tiny latch built in to keep it secure.

"There," Maka gasped, falling back on her bum and breathing heavily. "Now I just have to-"

_Craaack.._

Maka felt her heart drop deep in her chest as her eyes slowly drifted to the safety latch. Bile rose as a thin line crawled along its surface. "Please don't," she pleaded.

The safety latched snapped, the tiny piece flinging aside as the lever swung back to its original position with a condemning _thud_. The shutters that had closed around the hole trembled before disappearing to allow the smoke to once again spew out in curling tendrils.

Her hands shook as she picked up the broken piece in disbelief. "Oh no," Maka murmured, her eyes moving up to the escaping gas. Tossing the useless metal aside, Maka reached over and tugged the lever back over again, using her legs to anchor herself. Holding it down with her weight - heart fast in her chest - Maka pulled out the tiny communicator Tsubaki had given her from her shirt and smashed her thumb down on the button.

"Tsubaki, are you there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "We uh, may have a bit of a problem."

The tiny speaker in her hand buzzed with static and Maka could only just make out the words. "..._Maka?...What's wrong?..._"

She swallowed, watching the plumes being snuffed out once more. "It won't stay closed unless I hold the lever down." Maka adjusted herself, using more of her weight to press against it. "I think I'm going to have to keep it closed manually until everyone wakes up."

"._..What about... safety latch?..."_

"Broke off," she replied grimly, looking down at the broken piece in disdain.

There was a pause in which only static resounded, then, "..._It'll be at least fifteen minutes... wears off Maka... maybe more..._"

"Yeah, I know. Call me when they wake up?" Maka sniffed, wiping at her forehead with her wrist.

"..._I will... but Maka, when I open the doors you...only five minutes... to be out of the building..."_

"That's all I'll need," Maka assured, clicking off the communicator but keeping it tightly clenched in her fists.

Sweat ran down the line of her spine and she closed her eyes. The fan on the wall was so large that random gusts would pass by and hit her, but these moments of reprieve were few and far between. With nothing else to do, Maka sat in the burning room and waited for her signal.

* * *

Tsubaki's eyes were glued to the screen as she watched the first of the prisoners begin to wake up, a grin splitting her lips as her heart pounded in relief. It had been about fifteen minutes since Maka's impromptu message, but things were looking up if everyone was waking up earlier than initially planned. Hopefully Soul would get over there soon - he'd vanished from her radar and she'd been unable to spot him in any of her monitors. While disconcerting, she couldn't afford to worry about it too much.

They had bigger problems.

Tsubaki held the communicator up to her lips and pressed the button. "Maka?"

"..._Yeahumm?..."_

The tired response was belated and Tsubaki frowned. "Are you okay?"

"..._Just...sleepy..."_

The gas was seeping into the vents. It would be a small amount but, depending on how potent the concentration, it could pose a problem. "Listen, everyone is waking up now, so just hang on for a little longer, okay?"

"_...kay..._"

Tsubaki lifted her finger from the button and jumped when the door opened up behind her.

"It's just me," Soul assured, hands raised in a placating gesture when she whirled around with a hand clutching her heart. He watched with twitching lips as she deflated against her chair. "How is everything going? Maka not back yet?" Soul tossed his empty bag by the door and went to examine the screens beside her, conveniently missing the way Tsubaki seized up at his words.

"About that, Soul..."

"What is it?" he prompted when her words faded, red eyes darting to her own, rotating as they focused on her face.

"Maka has to manually hold down the switch hindering the gas to keep it from entering the cells. She's still up there."

He froze. "How long?"

Tsubaki shook her head. "I don't know. At least until we can get everyone out. Then I'll close the doors again."

"_Fuck,_" Soul hissed. "This is bullshit. I _told_ her."

Tsubaki swallowed at the feeling of guilt blooming beneath her breast. "She'll be fine Soul, she's a tough girl. Besides, the prisoners are waking up now, so once we get them out she can leave her post. It won't take too long." Tsubaki deliberately omitted her fears concerning Maka's exposure to the gas.

The truth was that she'd known all along that it was a very likely possibility, even though she'd told them both the complete opposite. She'd lied, but she couldn't bring herself to mention it in fear that Soul would call off the mission. He was oddly attached to the girl, and it was strange to see considering how alone he had always been before the war. He'd never cared about anyone that much except maybe Whitestar.

The thought brought with it fragments of doubt about her plan. It was cruel, but a selfish part of her didn't want to let go of the only piece of Whitestar that she had left. Still, Maka was in trouble - maybe she could convince him it was for the best to let her stay up there. Tsubaki opened her mouth to explain Maka's situation. "Soul - "

"I'm going to wait by the prisoners so we can get them out faster. Tell Maka to get out if anything happens, okay?"

Tsubaki closed her mouth, lips pinching guiltily. "Mhm," she hummed, offering a pained smile.

Soul waved and silently left the room, oblivious to Tsubaki's inner turmoil. She looked down at the communicator, her newly regained emotions swimming around within her as she thought of the kind hearted girl who had held a complete stranger while she cried. Her eyes then moved to the fuzzy image of Blackstar lounging on his bed, looking so much like his brother that it hurt her heart.

Had she turned into a person who would trade the life of one person in order to save another? Had she grown so ugly over the years? Her hand lifted to clutch the space above her heart because the horrible truth was that she didn't know.

She just wanted him back so badly.

* * *

Blackstar laid on the stiff bed, staring up at the off white ceiling in boredom. The smoke that put everyone to sleep was still spewing in from the ceiling, but the most it did was make him feel slightly dizzy. The longer he was exposed to it, the less of an effect it seemed to have on him.

With nothing else to do, his mind naturally drifted back to Tsubaki - who he'd taken to thinking about frequently ever since she'd run away from him the other day. It was funny, he could still clearly remember the exact moment when he'd first seen her. It was a Saturday morning when he walked into their grungy little kitchen and spotted her standing like a fancy dark-haired barbie doll next to his undeserving brother. She'd looked over with her shiny hair and her shiny eyes and she'd smiled so sweetly - this beautiful woman who was the picture of grace and kindness.

Before the war, she had become a regular in their run down house. She'd help him with his homework, watch with enthusiasm as he demonstrated his awesome karate moves, watch stupid movies with him, and stuff his face with her home cooking. She'd also been the first woman he'd masturbated to, which was of course a huge milestone in a young man's life - not to mention the fact that he'd risked getting his ass kicked for sneaking into his brother's room to get her picture. When Whitestar had shared his plans of proposing with the family, his tiny god-like heart had been broken.

A hard knocking on the glass had Blackstar jerking upright. However, instead of seeing Tsubaki's shining face like he'd hoped, he was instead met with the scary looking friend of his brother that he'd never failed to piss off. At this point though, he was happy to see anyone, even if that person had glaring red eyes and pointy monster teeth.

"Soul! My man! You look even scarier than before. Hey, about that one time with the fire hydrant and the - "

"Would you shut the hell up?" Soul hissed.

Blackstar jumped up from the bed and ran over to the glass. "Maka says you're a robot now! Or is it cyborg? I can't keep track. You guys are gonna have to rename yourselves, yo."

"Blackstar."

"Yes?"

"_Shut up_. This is important."

Blackstar perked up. "Are we kicking ass now?"

Soul's lips twitched despite himself. "Yeah, we're here to bust you guys out."

"Fuck yeah! Of course you've come to recruit my all powerful aid on this mission. I guess I could help you out."

"Oh wow," Soul muttered dryly. "Thank you so much."

"All in a days work. So what's the plan?"

Not sure at this point if Blackstar was capable of recognizing sarcasm, Soul decided it was better for his sanity just to humour him. "The gas keeping everyone asleep has been turned off, and once everyone wakes up, we have to move them all out of the cells as fast as we can. Once we do, Tsubaki will close the doors and Maka can get out of the fucking vents."

"Wait, Maka's here? I knew she was alive!" Blackstar grinned then asked seriously, "Is she okay?"

Soul frowned. "You didn't know? I thought you talked to Tsubaki?"

"No! Where has she been all this time?"

"Where?" Soul repeated warily.

Seemingly unaware of Soul's unease, Blackstar continued talking casually. "Yeah, she was gone for like a week before all this shit started."

"Uh..."

"Now that I remember, she had just mentioned you the day before she disappeared. _Weird_ huh?" He knew. The crummy little bastard knew and now he was looking at him like the fucking cat that ate the canary.

"Oh, shove off."

_Pshhhh..._

The glass door between them jerked and Soul stepped back as it slowly rose from the ground. Thankful he didn't have to answer any awkward questions, Soul said, "Okay, they're opening, let's hurry."

Blackstar slid out from the still rising glass and followed Soul's lead, running into the different cells around them and tugging the still weary people into the hallway.

Soul dropped the man he was pulling on the ground and addressed the sleepy crowd that had accumulated in the middle of the corridor. "Everyone! I need you to follow me, I'll take you to the building's exit. Those who are still asleep will need to be carried, understood?"

He led the _painfully_ slow crowd through the halls to the storage room he and Maka had entered through, opening the door to usher them in impatiently. Two men climbed through the open window using the rope ladder (which thankfully remained attached) and held it so that everyone else could climb up it.

When the last of them had entered the tight room, Soul turned to Blackstar, who had come up to stand next to him. "It's a good thing you guys aren't fat."

* * *

"_...Maka!...Maka!..._"

Maka's eyes slowly opened and she looked down at the buzzing device nestled in the bed of wires beside her. Tiredly, she picked the small communicator up and pressed the button. "Hello?" she asked, eyes drifting closed as she yawned.

"..._I've been trying to call you...they're out!... can let go now!..."_

"Roger that," Maka murmured, allowing the device to fall through her fingers. She sat up stiffly, and the lever eased itself back to its original position, the smoke once more pooling from the hole above her. A headache tore through her skull, but Maka forced herself to ignore it as she tiredly crawled over to the ventilation shaft she'd entered through and slowly crawled back in. A wall of heat welcomed her but she pushed past it.

As she gradually moved back through the dreaded vent shaft, she had to fight the growing fatigue weighing her down. Several times she felt her eyes drift shut and had had to jerk herself back to the present. "Stay awake," she told herself with slow, drawling words. "You're almost there. Almost...there."

It would be so easy to sleep; the inclination to do so was growing stronger with each passing second. Refusing that urge was _so_ hard and if she could just rest her eyes for a _second_ then maybe she could make it through. She stopped moving and slumped against the side. The metal creaked beneath her, groaning louder and louder.

Blearily Maka looked down at the dented metal beneath her. Her mind was foggy and barely registered the thin stainless steel sheet beneath her splitting next to her hand. The horrible peeling sound stopped and she blinked stupidly at the tear.

_Snap!_

Maka screeched, suddenly awake as the vent collapsed downward and the jagged edges of the pinch point cut into her thigh. "Ow, ow, ow..." she gasped and blinked away tears, looking back at her crushed leg stuck between the bent metal as she hung down the broken side. Her stomach twisted when she saw the blood drain down from the puncture.

Her upper body was hanging down with the swinging vent, which had pushed through the ceiling and was now sticking out partially into the open hallway. Maka's face glistened with sweat as she gritted her teeth and pulled experimentally on her torn and blood soaked thigh. A gasp escaped her as the resulting pain nearly rendered her unconscious and Maka collapsed against the heated metal - her body wracked by harsh pants.

She reached into her shirt and felt around for the communicator, but it wasn't there. Her eyes closed in defeat and, before she could even fight the inclination, she was asleep.

* * *

Soul reached up and carefully delivered a tiny girl into the waiting hands of her mother through the open window. At the teary eyed thank you he received, Soul offered a small, uncomfortable smile. Praise and thanks weren't things he was used to - even as a child - and they always left him feeling uncomfortable and fidgety.

He was about to grab another child when Tsubaki burst through the door. Soul jerked up in surprise and frowned as she ran over to him - in such a hurry that she nearly bulled them both over. "Soul!"

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Where's-"

Tsubaki swallowed. "Maka isn't answering her communicator."

"What do you mean?" Soul asked, instantly serious.

"I... I think she fell asleep in the vents."

"Asleep?" Soul repeated in confusion. "But you said the fumes wouldn't..."

And then he knew. With a sick sense of realization he knew - understood the agonized guilt twisting her face, the horrified tears brimming in her eyes, and why she had been so apologetic when sending Maka into those fucking vents. Her eyes, pleading with him to understand her motive, were like knives in his heart - ones slick with the putrid poison of betrayal.

He knew why she did it, and he was surprised he hadn't seen it all earlier. Soul reached out, ignoring her eyes which she'd squeezed shut, and gripped her shoulders gently. "You make sure everyone is out and a safe distance from the labs. I'll go find Maka and we'll meet up with you guys."

Her eyes opened and she nodded, lips tightly pressed together.

"Have fun with your little _replacement_," Soul spat dryly, brushing past her. "I hope for your sake that he's _just_ as good as the original."

Tsubaki gasped, turning in time to see Soul push through the door and storm out into the hallways.

"What's _his_ problem?" Tsubaki looked up to see Blackstar standing beside her, arms crossed over his chest. Tears fell silently down her cheek and Blackstar jumped. "Oh my god! Crap, are you okay?"

She smiled weakly and wiped her eyes. "Yeah, let's get everyone out."

* * *

"Maka!" The shout was heard from a distance and Maka opened her eyes weakly. She moved stiffly with a groan and an intense pain shot through her leg. As she looked back dumbly at the sticky blood coating her pant leg, the image brought her memories back to the forefront of her mind. When she hesitantly touched the cooled blood, Maka wondered with a sudden sense of horror just how long she had been asleep.

"Soul...?" she mumbled with mounting unease, looking forward once more. The combination of blood loss and sedating chemicals swirling around her system had her very close to losing consciousness once more.

"Maka!" His footsteps pounded towards her and she soon saw him rounding a nearby corner from her hole in the ceiling. He nearly tripped when he saw her stuck in the ceiling but quickly righted himself and sprinted towards her. Her hand flopped out lazily and extended towards him.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asked with furrowed brows as his hand reached up to grip her blood stained fingers in his own.

"M'leg. I'm stuck," she blinked as the sweat ran into her eyes. "I need help."

Soul frowned and gave her arm a sudden and sharp tug, immediately stopping upon her sharp cry of pain. "Stop you idiot!" she shrieked, trying not to pass out or throw up. "The metal is digging into my leg._ I can't move_."

"Shit, okay. Don't fall asleep, Maka! Do you hear me? Everything will be fine, I'm going to get you out okay?" Soul told her.

Maka nodded, lids heavy.

Soul smiled weakly in a poor attempt to reassure her, though the truth was that he was freaking out himself. He'd planted ten bombs around the facility ready to be blown up by the click of a crudely made button he'd hidden in his pocket, and now Maka was trapped in a fucking air duct. He panicked when her head lolled drowsily and squeezed her hand. "Maka-!"

A sudden and gut dropping sound entered his ear and Soul's head instantly spun around, his eyes wide and wary with the sense of another's approach. He ignored Maka's questioning murmur and asked sharply, "Who's there?"

He heard a soft sound behind him and whirled around to face one of the white skinned aliens who had tortured him.

"The blocks have deteriorated. Fascinating," its voice was quiet and deceptively tranquil. Chills ran through him and he unconsciously took a shaky step back, the fear in his memories taking over control of his limbs.

"Soul?" He froze, eyes darting to Maka, who still watched him warily from inside the ceiling, and forced himself to remain still. His lips pressed together tightly and he clenched his fingers to hide their trembling.

"I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to vacate the premises."

Soul pulled out his gun and aimed it directly at the pasty invader. He shot bullet after bullet into its bulbous, flaky head until he was out of ammo and clicking the trigger uselessly. Soul released the gun from his trembling finger as the being went down, and then turned back shakily to Maka. "Okay, I'm going to try and break it -"

"Soul!"

Soul jerked around and watched incredulously the alien he'd shot over ten times rise slowly to its feet. The pasty white of its skin was crinkled and burnt from the bullet holes, and Soul could only stare in horror and disbelief as it reached up to pull away the spent flesh.

Beneath lay polished steel and sparking blue wires. Its head tilted to the side, displaying the sophisticated gears that acted as muscles.

"You're robots?" Soul breathed, eyes moving from the skin in its hand and back up to the disfigured face. "How..."

"Soul!" Maka screamed. Her warning came too late; the barbs of the taser held by the scientist behind Soul had already lodged deep within his neck. His eyes rolled up to hers briefly before he fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. "SOUL! _SOUL_!"

The android's faceless head turned slowly to Maka, it's presence cold, menacing, _blank_.

"Your turn."

* * *

A/N: Hey! So I've finished writing Robots (there will be two more chapters) and I am currently knee deep in Resbang. Since I'm done, I can change the bi-monthly updates to weekly ones if people are interested.

Huge thanks to Professor Maka (ProMa) for beta reading this beast of a chapter!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

When she finally woke, her skin damp with sweat, it was because the burning pain in her leg had reached a crescendo. She gasped into awareness and had to suppress a whimpered cry when her movements sent a second agonizing wave through her body. Her eyes moved to her red stained pant leg and shakily probed it with a finger. Her breath hitched and she pulled back her hand.

Maka looked up from the wound to examine her surroundings. She was in a dark room, propped up against a wall made of twisted cords and crooked pipes. From the faint light, she realized the walls around her didn't reach the ceiling, merely sprouted from the ground vertically - tall enough that she wouldn't be able to see over the top.

How had she gotten here? Just as the thought ran through her mind, the image of Soul's collapsed body came to her. And the faceless robot promising her the same fate. Bile rose, and she swallowed to keep it down.

Maka squeezed her eyes tightly shut. When she opened them she forced herself to concentrate on her wound and worry about the logistics when she wasn't in danger of bleeding to death. Since the metal had sliced most of the fabric of her pants along with her leg, she tore the rest off with gritted teeth and pushed it down her leg and over her shoe. With no bandages on hand, Maka decided just to wrap the pant leg tightly around her thigh to stop the blood flow as best she could. Thankfully her iliac artery hadn't been punctured, otherwise she'd dead by now.

Maka moved her leg experimentally and, breathing through her nose, pulled herself to her feet using the tangled wires at her back.

"There we go," she gasped. Sweat beaded at her forehead. "Now to find Soul and get the heck out of here." Her first steps were shaky, but she soon found a rhythm that allowed her to shuffle awkwardly along the wall. It was a painfully slow process.

As Maka made her way steadily, she was surprised when the halls kept turning abruptly. There was no clearly marked path, only turn after turn after turn. She could only hope she wasn't leading herself further into the building.

She turned for the nth time, looked up and found nothing but a solid wall. A dead end. Maka felt her heart turn to stone and fall deep into her belly. Frustrated tears burned in her eyes and she clenched her fists. With some difficulty, Maka turned around and limped back the way she came.

Just when things seemed hopeless, she rounded a corner and saw a body lying flat on the ground, his arms sprawled uselessly over his head. "Soul!"

Maka tripped over to him and slid down the wall of wires awkwardly to sprawl down beside him. "Soul!" She gently slapped his cheek as she leaned over his body. "Soul, wake up!" His white lashes fluttered and Maka sighed in relief.

"I'm so glad you're alright. When they attacked you, I thought - well it doesn't matter what I thought because you're okay and…. Soul?" Red eyes were staring back at her with calm intensity, and Maka felt a whisper of unease flow through her.

"Soul, what's wrong?" He didn't reply, simply stared back at her with a cold gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You know why you're here don't you?" he said finally, and his monotone chilled her to the bone. Maka watched him without responding, edging back slowly. "We're in the maze they use to test their experiments," he grinned, eyes widening. "You're being _studied_."

She pushed herself back further. "Why would I be studied?"

"Because _Maka_, you broke through my blocks once - they'd like to see if you can do it again."

Her breathing hitched as she watched him languidly sit up, his movements sexual when just that morning they had been careless and casual. Her face betrayed her growing horror. "What do you mean _do it again_?"

His hand moved and she watched it slide up her bare leg till it was about to trace her poorly bandaged wound. Maka pulled away. "Stop…" she whispered, rising unsteadily to her feet with the aid of the wall. Making her words firm, she continued, "Soul, stop it."

He grinned and followed her up smoothly, halting her retreat with an arm and caging her with his body. "It's been an awful long time Maka," he whispered, pressing into her. "Have I not been taking care of your _needs_?"

The words were whispered against her skin and she clenched her eyes tightly shut. "Soul, _stop_," she growled. His teeth bit into her and she jerked when she felt the skin break. Maka pulled herself out of his grasp and stumbled away. Her hand touched her neck and she brought it up to her face to see the blood that stained her fingers.

Maka looked up at Soul in horror, and he made a show of licking her blood slowly and suggestively from his lips. "Maybe we should just skip the foreplay," he grinned, pulling out a knife he'd stashed in his pocket. "Do you agree?"

"Soul," Maka began earnestly, voice trembling as she held up a hand to stop his approaching footsteps. "_Please_, snap out of it!"

He ignored her, tossing the blade between his hands absently as he sauntered ever closer. "The problem is, Maka, if I don't kill you, _he _is going to come back. For some reason, he's become quite taken with you. Even before the whole explosion debacle, it was like he was purposely manipulating my movements - now that I think about it, the idea to keep you was probably his too, in some twisted way. Unfortunately, the nights are too cold for his morals. I'd hoped to keep you longer... but these things happen, you understand."

Maka turned and tripped away as fast as she could. This wasn't Soul. Whatever those things had done to him, whatever they made him become - she knew from the depths of herself that this was someone entirely different. Someone psychotic and twisted and _wrong_. The chuckles that echoed behind her rang in the air like a death sentence.

* * *

"Maka. Maka where are you? Please say something."

Blackstar looked up from the sniveling kid he was trying to untangle from his leg to Tsubaki. Once they'd moved the group to one of the rocky outcrops a hundred yards from the labs, she had immediately curled up around her little communicator and had been trying to contact Maka ever since.

He looked back down at the snot nosed brat that had attached itself to him and forcefully peeled the thing off, ignoring the wails of protest as he did so. "I know I'm awesome, but hands off the merchandise, kid-No! Go cuddle up to one of the woman, that shit's girl stuff." Tossing the kid at one of the older children, Blackstar walked over to Tsubaki's curled up form.

Stiffly sitting down next to her, he stretched out his legs and looked up at the dark sky. Static buzzed condemningly around them in answer to her pleas and Tsubaki miserably buried her face deep in her curled up knees, the device still clenched tight in her fingers.

Blackstar frowned down at the miserable woman and then looked up at the sky with a great sigh. "Man, I miss the stars," he told her conversationally. "I think the last time I saw them was when I was six - my dad took me an' my brother camping and we watched them all night."

Tsubaki didn't respond, merely curled up tighter within herself.

"We have to get everyone home soon," Blackstar continued, as though his audience wasn't blatantly ignoring him. "So, I was wondering... are you going to help them get back, stay here in your miserable little ball, or are you going to help me bust Maka and Soul out of the mess they've no doubt landed themselves in?"

Tsubaki looked up at him in surprise, the tears running down her cheeks. "You don't have to do that."

"Don't insult me, Tsubaki. Besides, Maka would never let me live it down if she helped my ass out and I left her to rot."

"You don't understand," Tsubaki insisted, turning to face him with desperate eyes. "This is my fault, they're in there and it's all because I didn't do my job!"

"Well, then, isn't that all the more reason to help me?" Blackstar asked with a grin.

"You've hardly eaten anything in the past week!"

"Not true, I found some stale bars in Maka's backpack."

Tsubaki remained unconvinced. "Blackstar…"

"Ya'know, I read something once - don't hold it against me, the caves get boring and Maka totally shoved it in my face - and it said that warriors in some far off place or whatever would wear their blood to ensure bravery and triumph in battle." He grabbed one of the sharp stones next to him and held it out to her. "Wanna try it?"

"I don't have any blood..."

"S'okay, I got lots," he assured, slitting the pad of his index finger without preamble. He held the finger up in question, and while it was completely unorthodox (not to mention unsanitary), Tsubaki found herself hesitantly leaning forewords. With a grin, Blackstar smeared his wound on her forehead in what she assumed was a star shape. He did the same to himself directly after.

"There!" he smiled. The next statement was muffled around his finger as he'd stuck it in his mouth. "I've always wanted to do this but Maka was grossed out and threatened to hit me with her science book."

Tsubaki looked up at him, eyes still somber. She tried one last time to dissuade him. "It isn't your fight..."

He stopped sucking on his finger and wiped it on his pants. "Even if that was true - which it totally isn't by the way - I am an awesome enough person that I help those below me." At her look of confusion, he grinned, offering her his hand as he rose to his feet. She took it with a small smile. "Stand tall and proud, Tsubaki, you're about to ride on the shoulders of a giant."

* * *

Maka pressed her back against the wall, eyes closed and chest heaving. She tried to slow her heart, because she knew it was like a beacon leading him to her, but the fear rushing through her veins was suffocating in its intensity.

Swallowing, Maka shuffled along the wall. The silence rang around her, so still that her shaky breaths resonated loudly in her ears. She peered around the corner and scanned the area for signs of Soul before she moved back behind the wall. Her eyes welled up with tears as the image of his cold gaze came to her mind - one devoid of the rough yet endearing personality she'd grown accustomed to within the last several days.

"_Oh _Maka…" the soft lilting words echoed around the winding pathways, the direction of its source indistinguishable. "I hear you…"

She sucked in her breath and covered her mouth with her hand. Sweat beaded at her forehead. Her hands trembled. He was coming closer. The gentle tapping of his steps growing louder and louder like a maddening timer. Patting her pockets, Maka slipped her fingers inside and pulled out the small knife Soul had given her. Gripping it firmly, she pushed herself off the wall.

"Oh honey, what are you going to do with a dangerous thing like that?" Maka whirled around and bared her teeth at Soul who stood calmly behind her. He crossed his arms and eyed her offensive stance with raised brows. "_Very _scary."

"Stay back," she breathed, edging away with her weapon raised towards him. "I said _stay back_!"

"Is that anything to say to the man you love?"

"Not you," Maka spat, the tears coming freely now. "Never you."

He shrugged and walked closer despite her protests. "Same dick, so I don't really know what the issue is. At least _I'll_ give it to you."

"You're _disgusting_!" she hissed, and then her eyes grew wide with fear as she felt her back hit the wall behind her.

"If I remember correctly, it's never been a problem before." Though his words came out casual, the hand he shot foreword to clamp around her neck was painfully tight. "How about one last _fuck_ for old time's sake?"

Maka brought up her knife, but he easily grabbed her wrist and snapped it. Her cry of agony was muffled by his fingers constricting around her windpipe. Eyes rolling to meet his, Maka glared at him in hatred even as she gasped for breath in his hold.

"Are you scared?" he asked her softly, examining her face. She shook her head vehemently, but he just snorted. "Liar. I can _see_ your fear." His free hand lifted to brush the stray hairs behind her ear. "But, you see, I don't really understand it." He leaned in closer, whispering, "I've been frightened myself, and it wasn't unpleasant." With wicked eyes and a cruel smirk, Soul kissed her hard on the lips - his tongue moving forcefully inside her mouth as she struggled futilely against him.

Dark spots began to dance widely around the edges of her vision and her lungs burned for air. Soul's hand moved beneath her shirt and crawled up the skin of her stomach to cup her breast, groaning into her mouth as he did so. Fire ripped through her lungs.

Just as she felt herself slipping away, Soul's hand jerked away from her neck as an unholy scream echoed around them. Maka fell to her knees, coughing raggedly as she gasped for air. Her eyes slowly rose to see Soul clutching his head. He stumbled around the floor till he bumped against the wall and promptly began smashing his head against it.

"_Soul_…" Maka croaked weakly.

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

Maka struggled to her feet, tender wrist cradled against her chest, and limped over to Soul. She placed a tentative hand on his shoulder but he reared back away from her, fear in his eyes as they connected with hers. "Stay away," he pleaded. "Please, don't come near me."

She swallowed and nodded, watching as he slid down the wall to the ground and dropped his head into his hands. "Are you… back?"

"I'm not about to rape you if that's what you mean," he muttered, and Maka could have cried at the return of his sarcastic, crude tone. She tripped over to where he sat, ignored the sudden tension in his shoulders, and collapsed weakly beside him.

"Thank god," she breathed and slumped against him.

Soul snorted despite the charged atmosphere, hands falling to his side in defeat.

"Please don't leave again," Maka pleaded against his neck.

Swallowing, Soul leaned his head back and nodded. "I won't."

* * *

"Be careful," Tsubaki cautioned as she led Blackstar down the hallway towards the control centre, her own eyes carefully watching their surroundings. "They'll have figured out by now that everyone is gone."

"Let them show their faces! One look at me and they'll be quivering in their panties!" Tsubaki smiled at his confidence. It was nice to have someone so assured in a tense situation - she did wish he'd be a bit more quiet in his enthusiasm though…

"Here it is!" she called, rushing over to the room. Tsubaki held up a hand to halt Blackstar and pressed her ear against the door. When no sounds registered, she carefully opened the door and slipped in, motioning for Blackstar to follow.

"What is this place?" he asked as his eyes wandered around the dark room.

Tsubaki quietly shut the door behind them. "It's the control centre. This is the place where we monitor all activity within the facility. It is connected to every surveillance camera in the building, so if Soul and Maka are still here, this is our best shot at finding them," she replied. At the computer, she brushed aside stray papers and tapped her fingers against the keyboard. The screen flickered rapidly as she switched between cameras.

"Do you see them?"

"No," Tsubaki swallowed nervously. "I'll check the lower level cameras." She pressed several buttons on the side of the screen and began to flip once again through the various video feeds.

"Wait stop! Go back…there!" Blackstar smudged his finger on the screen and Tsubaki had to push it aside to see where he pointed. She gasped at the fuzzing image of Soul and Maka limping through a maze like structure.

"They're in the labyrinth," Tsubaki breathed in horror. "This is bad."

"Why?"

She turned to him. "That's where they test their experiments."

Blackstar raised an eyebrow. "Experiments?"

_Cliiick._

Tsubaki looked back to the door in fear. Quickly shutting off the screen, she grabbed Blackstar's arm and pulled him with her to the back of the room. They hid behind a pile of discarded boxes and when Blackstar protested, Tsubaki shushed him.

"It is fascinating. The moment he saw her, his brain waves began reacting abnormally and in precisely twenty-seven minutes, she has once again broken through his blocks and regulated dopamine levels in his system."

Tsubaki and Blackstar peaked over the boxes to see two pasty white beings glide into the room, their movements smooth and faultless.

"Where are they now?" one asked.

"Let me show you," the other replied. It moved to the main computer and began rapidly typing. Soul and Maka once again popped up on the screen, and Tsubaki felt Blackstar stiffen beside her. "There is no explanation for this power she has over him - it simply isn't possible."

"Has patient 858288 been released?"

"Affirmative. The girl has been deemed too unpredictable to be left alive."

Blackstar growled from their hiding spot. "That's it." Before Tsubaki could stop him, he stood up and grabbed one of the many boxes they hid behind in his hand. The two beings turned to face him in what Tsubaki could only assume was surprise.

"Get back in your cell, patient. You are not authorized to-" Blackstar cut off the monotone order by smashing the wooden box into the bulging head. When it reared back up, Blackstar slammed his foot into its hard face, sending the creature back into its companion.

Blackstar followed Tsubaki who was already running out the door. "We'll need weapons before we can help them," she called back as they ran.

"Where the hell will we find weapons?"

"The armoury!"

* * *

"Was it true what he said?" Maka had her arm wrapped around Soul's shoulder as she stumbled along with his aid, the deep gouges in her leg worsening. At her words, she felt him stiffen against her.

"About what?" he asked gruffly, though they both knew his play at ignorance was bullshit.

"Did you-was it you that kept him from killing me?"

Soul sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand. "I don't know... maybe. It's all pretty vague to be honest. If I think hard enough, I can remember feeling trapped under this weight of nothingness, and I remember thinking of you dying and not being able to take it anymore. After you came along, everything became clearer - the memories I mean. When I was with you, I remember being able to feel for the first time," he turned to her and smiled crookedly, "even if it _was_ beneath a layer of apathy."

Maka looked away and could feel her face grow hot. She tried to smother the foolish smile that pushed at her lips because it was a _ridiculous_ time to feel flustered, but she couldn't help it. Shaking her head mentally, Maka tried to steer the conversation back to the present. "So do you know how to get out of here?"

"Yeah I do, this maze was in Tsubaki's briefing. It wasn't a part of the plan in any way, but thankfully she decided to add it."

"What do they even use it for?" Maka asked.

"Testing mostly, for the shit they create. They'd study our combat abilities by sticking us in here with their other sick and twisted creations."

"_Other _creations?" Maka repeated in a low voice.

He looked down at her with a grim smile. "Yeah, they're pretty f-" Soul froze and tightened his hold on Maka as he looked around them warily.

"What is-?"

"Shh!" His hand clamped over her mouth. He slowly took a step back, his words quiet as he cautioned, "I think I hear something."

"You hear correctly." They turned to the figure that stood quietly to their left. His back was straight, and the gold like colour of his eyes shone as he watched them patiently.

"Kid!" Maka moved to run over to him, but Soul kept her locked at his side stubbornly. Maka tried once more to go to her friend, but Soul wasn't having any of it and she eventually gave up with a short huff. "Kid, are you okay?" she called.

Wordlessly, Kid lifted his arm straight out towards them. His hand detached from his wrist and rotated out of the way to reveal a spiralling metal cylinder that held a gradually brightening light at its base.

"Soul…" Maka started uneasily. "What is that?"

Kid's hand vibrated with growing energy, and the faintly blue glow increased as more of his arm transformed into a large hissing weapon.

Soul tackled Maka behind a corner as a blast of energy shot into the place they were just standing, leaving a smoking crater in its wake. "It seems they've added a few things since my last tune-up," Soul muttered as he pulled Maka up quickly and rushed down the hall with her hand clenched firmly in his.

"_Tune-up_?" Maka hissed, tripping along as fast as she could.

"_It was a joke_."

"You're joking _now_?"

"Would you stop berating me and just run, please?!" Soul shouted back.

A second blast shot at them with a loud _boom, _one which nearly blew off one of Maka's legs. She shrieked and Soul pulled them around another corner. "We can't keep running like this, especially when your leg is so shitty."

"Okay," Maka panted. She looked back at Kid and pulled on Soul's hand till he stopped. "I think I have an idea."

Soul frowned in confusion. His eyes darted from her face to the spot Kid would emerge worriedly. Finally, he looked back down at her and nodded.

Maka cleared her throat and sang loudly, "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb! Mary had a little lamb whose feet."

Kid turned the corner and stared at them with wide eyes, seemingly frozen in place as he locked his gaze on Maka. Uncomfortable with the intense look, Soul hissed, "What the hell are you-?"

"_Shh_," Maka hushed. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, _nine_, ten!"

Kid visibly twitched. He lowered his arm.

"Hey Kid, I noticed that you only have one gun hand. Seems a bit _asymmetrical_ don't you think?"

He closed his eyes and his free hand reached up to clutch his head. Then he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Soul stared down at Kid. "Shit. Now what?"

Maka turned to him. "What do you mean? Pick him up!"

His eyes widened and he gave Maka a look of disbelief. "You want to take him with us?"

She glared. "Of course I do. We can't just leave him here, he's my friend!" Soul gave a long suffering sigh and walked over to pick up _the friend_. "Be gentle!"

Kid slumped back in Soul's arms as soon as he was lifted and nearly toppled them both over. He then swayed the other way. "He keeps moving!" Soul complained as Kid's hands flopped around and slapped him in the face. "Do you have something to tie him up with?"

"_Like what?_ Just hold him tighter, don't be a wimp," Maka told him as she limped ahead.

Soul glared at her. "You know what? Fuck it."

"What are you-?" Maka turned back just as Kid's head slammed into the wall. He fell limp. "Soul! _What the heck!?_"

Soul rolled his eyes and hoisted Kid up on his back. "Oh don't look so scandalized, I hardly hurt him." He walked past her. "Coming?"

Quietly seething, Maka hobbled after him.

Though their pace was slow as a result of Soul's extra burden and Maka's wounds, it wasn't long before they reached their destination, the narrow path eventually widening enough to frame a large open door.

Soul heard Maka release a relieved sigh from behind him as they neared it; still he slowed to a stop, unease creeping up his spine as he stared at the open doorway. It stretched up the height of the room and its giant doors were pulled back to reveal the darkened space on the other side. In all his memories of being in this maze, the giant steel barrier that blocked the exit had always been in place, yet now it was open and it felt utterly wrong.

"What is it?" Maka asked. She came up to stand beside him and looked from Soul's wary face to the exit before them.

"It's too easy," he muttered, his brows furrowed. "We should try a different exit." Even as he said it though, he knew it was impossible. This was the only way out.

"You know we can't, so let's go. If it's a trap we'll just have to deal with it. We don't really have a choice at this point."

The question wasn't _if _there was a trap, but rather _what _it was. They'd already sent Maka's little OCD friend to kill her in case he didn't, and odds were that there would be yet another failsafe. Still, Soul nodded in reluctant agreement and continued forward. As much as he loathed the situation, she was right.

They walked through the doorway cautiously, and Soul cursed the dead weight on his back that hindered his movement. It was dark - even with his advanced vision he could only just make out various shapes in the distance.

"Can you see?" he heard her ask.

"Barely."

"Well, I can't see anything so you're in charge."

Soul rolled his eyes. "_Great_."

Her footsteps halted, then sped up again to catch him. "Why did you say it like that?"

"Like what?" he muttered. He knew it was the tense situation that made them act like this, but he didn't care.

"_Greeeat._"

He scoffed. "I'm carrying _your_ friend blindly through a dark room towards almost certain doom, and you're sassing me about my tone?"

She pursed her lips. "Common courtesy isn't hard Soul."

"Oh for the love of-" Soul was cut off abruptly by a loud buzz that ran around the room and hummed with energy. The sound steadily grew louder.

"What's that?" Maka whispered.

As if in answer to her question, vibrant green lights flickered on sporadically throughout the space, slowly revealing the room they'd wandered into.

"_Fuck _me..."

Green incubators lit up around them, revealing grotesque, twisted shapes within. As they watched, the creatures began to twitch within their submerged prisons. Maka groaned when their illuminated eyes fluttered open to reveal an all consuming black.

The liquid in the tanks began to drain.

"Run..." Soul murmured as he watched the menacing beings awaken. Their black arms punched through glass and it shattered at their feet. He grabbed Maka's arm to jerk her from her stupor. "_Run!_"

Even with Kid weighing him down and Maka's leg reduced to shreds, they were surprisingly fast as they sprinted down the seemingly never ending corridor.

It wasn't fast enough.

Maka nearly ran into Soul when he skidded to an abrupt halt. She looked over his shoulder and her breath hitched.

Slowly circling around them were the humanoid creatures. Their skin was an inky black and the liquid from the incubators dripped in hollow splashes onto the ground by their gnarled feet. "What are they?" Maka asked through the corner of her mouth.

Soul shook his head. "Nothing good."

"Yes well, thank you for that brilliant deduction, Soul, but I can kinda _see that for myself_!" Maka hissed.

"_Can we please not do this now?_"

The closest monster attacked, its sickly claws outstretched as it lunged for them. Maka shoved Soul out of the way and dodged herself just in time as more began to rush towards them with frantic and jerky movements. One opened its mouth in a warbled screeched and grabbed Maka, pulling her into the sea of groaning black bodies.

She fought against the grip, kicking at her assailant viscously with her one good leg. From somewhere behind her she could hear Soul hiss out an angry "fuck!" moments before she saw Kid's legs fly towards her to knock out the monster that had pulled her away.

Wide eyed, Maka looked from the slumped form of Kid to Soul. "Are you seriously using my friend as a weapon!?" she screeched as she ducked beneath a waving claw.

"Oh please, it wasn't like he was doing anything anyways!" Soul growled back as he helped Maka pull the unconscious man into their constricting circle. He kicked at one of the creatures that was getting too handsy. "And _you're welcome_."

They dropped Kid in the middle between them and Maka moved so her back pressed lightly against Soul's, her stance cautious as she watched the beasts hiss around them. Their beady eyes stared back blankly and Maka felt her heart beat fast as they stopped their approach and simply stood in a tight ring to entrap them.

"What are they doing?" Maka asked slowly, fists clenching and unclenching sporadically.

With an ugly shriek, one of the creatures broke from the group and lunged towards them. Soul, shocked by the sudden attack, barely had time to shove the thing away before its teeth imbedded into his skull. Just as the first was sucked back into the sea of beings, another burst forth with its claws directed towards them.

Using its momentum, Maka grabbed an oily arm and flung it into the crowd on the other side. She returned to her position at Soul's back, her chest heaving. Horrible chitters erupted around them and Maka felt Soul tense behind her. "Soul?" she prompted, not taking her eyes off the oily _things_.

"They're taking turns," Soul replied shortly.

Confused, Maka watched the cackling of the hideous creatures surrounding them. A third beast was freed from the crowd and Soul smashed his foot into the sickly looking head and it was sucked back into the swarm.

Maka clutched her stomach as nausea curled in her gut. "They're playing with us," she whispered. "Aren't they?"

Soul didn't respond.

The creatures grew more eager as they once again inched closer, pushing and shoving at their kin. Maka reached back and grabbed Soul's hand with her own, infinitely grateful when he didn't pull away and instead squeezed her fingers just as tightly.

"**YAAAHOOOOOOO!**!"

Bullets exploded around the room accompanied by maniacal laughter. Maka couldn't suppress the giant grin on her face as she saw the familiar blue streak advance from over the swarm of black creatures.

Soul bent down and picked up Kid under the armpits. "Maka," she looked over at him. "Help me drag your friend to the side of the room. He's in the way." As the inky monsters moved from their confining formation to face the new threat, Maka grabbed Kid's other arm and helped Soul tug him quickly over to one of the broken incubators.

"Are you guys okay?"

Maka looked up to see Tsubaki with a sword gripped tightly in her hand. Black sludge coated her face and hands, which Maka assumed were remnants of the dead creatures behind her. She gave the other woman a weary half smile. "More or less. Have any weapons?"

Tsubaki tossed Maka a long steel pipe. "Blackstar said to give you this."

"Thanks for coming," Soul told her when she handed him a gun, a small smile on his face. Tsubaki beamed back at him.

"_Kneel bitches!_"

Maka smacked the pipe against her palm a couple of times before running to join Blackstar. She jammed the head of the pole into an oncoming opponent then swung it back around to bash the one to her left.

"Blackstar!" Maka cried, fighting her way towards him. It had been over a month since she'd seen the annoying doofus, and she couldn't help the emotional tears coming to her eyes.

He looked over. "Maka!" Pounding his fist into a nearby face, Blackstar ran towards her and scooped her up in his arms. "I _knew_ you weren't dead! I _told_ them!"

She squeezed him back tightly, blinking away the stubborn tears that pushed against her lids. "God, I missed your stupid face," she told him in a whisper.

Blackstar sniffed, pushing her away by the shoulders. "Okay Maka, don't make it weird."

A loud gunshot sounded near them and Maka turned in time to see a lunging creature fall dead before it could reach her. "Could we have this touching moment some other time? Perhaps when we _aren't_ in mortal danger?" Soul said behind them.

"Maka, you really need to tell your boyfriend to chill," Blackstar told her, giving Soul a wink before charging a creature with a wicked bellow. Maka's lips twitched and she shrugged when Soul narrowed his eyes at her.

The moment didn't last long as more of the black creatures diffused into the space. Like swarming ants, they piled over each other in disorganized madness. Soul shot three in the head and the collapsing bodies were replaced with six more. "Tsubaki!" Soul called out blindly. "Where's the exit?!"

"Still a hundred metres!" was the answering shout.

"Fuck," Soul muttered as he absently rubbed the black guts off his face with an arm. He'd lost sight of Maka. The fighting was growing chaotic and would result in fatalities sooner rather than later. Looking over the sea of festering black, he tried to spot Maka's dirty blonde head in the fray.

Right when Soul spotted her, a loud, reverberating screech rang throughout the room that immediately stole his attention and brought it to Maka's writhing friend. His limbs were drawn close to his body as he writhed on the ground, his head clutched tightly in his hands. Soul cursed and sprinted over, shoving gurgling bodies to the side. He dropped to his knees and heaved Kid up by the arms. When he'd risen again to his feet, everyone had converged around him.

"Tsubaki is there a room nearby?" Soul asked with a grunt as he hefted Kid's weight over his shoulder.

"No," she shouted back over the dying gargles of her opponent, "but the exit has a door we can use to keep them out temporarily!"

"That'll have to do, come on!"

Blackstar took the lead and shot through the heads of the black experiments. Soul felt Kid grow still and he really hoped that he hadn't died, especially since everyone was further risking _their_ lives to carry along the (hopefully not literal) dead weight.

"I see it!" Maka called, who had moved ahead to help Blackstar clear a path. "We're almost there!"

Soul spotted it moments later - a small, obscure doorway that could just have easily been a broom closet. "Tsubaki?" he asked the woman running beside him, his tone unsure.

"That's it! Keep going Maka!"

The distance between them and the exit was shrinking rapidly with each passing moment. They had picked up a successful rhythm of stabbing, jumping, and dodging.

The exit grew closer and everyone instinctively ran faster.

Twenty feet.

Fifteen feet.

Blackstar, who had run out of bullets, began to use his gun as a bludgeoning tool.

Ten feet.

Tsubaki danced between the creatures around her, leaving a neat trail of bodies in her wake.

Five feet.

Maka impaled a sputtering creature with her pipe and lunged for the door handle.

"Open it! Open it!" Blackstar screeched, ever the helpful one. Maka slammed into the door with her shoulder and after several hard shoves, she burst through. Blackstar followed her, then Tsubaki, and finally Soul with the unconscious Kid. The door shut with a bang behind them and Tsubaki pulled down the bolt to lock it.

"We don't have much time," Tsubaki cautioned, though she didn't protest when Soul dropped Kid on the ground and knelt down beside him.

"Is it like what happened with Tsubaki?" Maka asked between ragged pants as she slumped tiredly against the wall, her injured leg carefully propped up.

"It's too soon. The blocks shouldn't have corroded to this extent yet."

"He has really bad OCD," Maka pointed out.

Soul shook his head. "It's still too soon, something must have gone wrong during his operation." He peeled back Kid's eyelid and examined the rotating irises grimly.

"Wrong?" Blackstar asked, turning away from the door. "What do you mean wrong?"

It was Tsubaki who answered. "The brain is a highly sophisticated organ. Even the most developed scientists make mistakes."

"They aren't scientists," Soul muttered, leaning back. "They're robots."

"No shit?" Blackstar asked.

"No shit."

"Wait, what do mean robots?" Tsubaki interjected, brows furrowed. "You must've made a mistake. It isn't possible."

"Its face was pulled off, Tsubaki. I was there, I saw it too," Maka told her tiredly.

Tsubaki's head fell into her hands. "No, this doesn't make sense! Why would they do this if they were robots? What motivation could they possibly have?"

Blackstar snorted. "World domination, human hate, genocide of all living things, envy, jealousy... the list goes _on and on_. Let's not think about it, it doesn't matter anymore."

"But we thought they were leaving. They _said_ they were leaving! What are we going to do if that was a lie as well? What if they stay?!"

Blackstar shrugged.

"They won't," Soul spoke and pulled out the small detonator from his pocket. "I've planted bombs around the lab. We'll blow the place up once we leave."

Maka's mouth fell open as she looked from the small button to Soul's face and back again. "You brought _bombs_? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You had enough on your mind." That and he hadn't wanted to give her a chance to talk him out of it. "We should get going, I can hear them scraping at the door."

Blackstar bent down and hoisted the immobile Kid over his shoulder and followed Tsubaki as she scaled the seemingly endless flights of stairs that would lead to their freedom.

Maka paused with one foot on the first step and, after what seemed to be a moment of consideration, looked back at Soul. "Thank you for helping me," she said, smiling at him - a surreal contradiction amidst the black blood and gore sticking to her.

Soul couldn't help the responding conspiratorial grin that grew on his face and for a moment they simply stood there, smiling at each other stupidly. After a while, Soul jerked his chin towards the stairs. "Hurry up," he said. "It's a long way up and I want to get home."

Still smiling through the black smears on her face, Maka turned back and ran up the winding stairs. When they'd finally reached the top and pushed through the doors into the warm night air, Blackstar had already jumped down from the small, two story roof onto a sandy bank and Tsubaki was lowering Kid over the edge for him to catch.

"Just drop him!"

"I don't want to hurt you! He's pretty heavy."

"Hurry up! My God like arms won't feel a thing!"

"Oh alright..." Tsubaki dropped Kid down who landed like a bowling ball directly into Blackstar's arms and immediately pulled him to the ground with an "oof!". Tsubaki was quick to follow, spinning her legs over the ledge and leaping down to land on her feet beside Blackstar. She looked up at Maka. "You're turn. I'll catch you so you don't hurt your leg any more."

Maka nodded and threw her leg over the ledge. She was just about leap off when a loud screeching noise resounded around them and made her slip with a yelp. Soul lunged forward and caught her arm before she fell.

His head spun around when the door behind them creaked open. White faces appeared like a death sentence from the darkness as the scientists glided gracefully onto the rooftop in countless numbers. They faced them silently with eyeless expressions.

"Patient 001463," one spoke, and its soft words rang clear in the charged atmosphere. Soul tensed, unconsciously gripping Maka tighter as his heart pounded in his chest. A violent burst of seething anger was tearing through him as he glared at the morbid beings, and it vibrated under his skin to the point where he didn't know if it was fear or rage that shook him. "Drop the human. We have come to detain you."

He snarled and his hand moved slowly to the detonator in his pocket, the only thought in his mind their total and complete destruction. The image was addicting and he grinned at the high it gave him.

"Soul," Maka hissed suddenly, the single word stealing his attention and grounding him when he wanted to fly off in his fantasy of revenge. She clung harder to his arm and dug her nails into his skin when he didn't respond. "Soul, come on, _let's go!_ What are you doing?"

He looked down at her, and he briefly wondered what it was she saw on his face because she immediately seized up, her eyes wide with shock. Maka swallowed and her words were shaky when she next spoke, but the resolve in them was clear, "Don't do this, Soul. I swear to God, I won't forgive you. _Please_... don't do this."

He frowned at the hurt on her face and the desperation present in her tone stabbed him like a physical blow. "They'll only follow us, Maka," he told her as his hold on her loosened. He turned back to the scientists, their calm and patient demeanor belying their unrelenting and malicious intent. One tilted its head curiously.

"Soul!" she cried and her hands clawed at his shirt as she slipped further and further down his arm. "_Soul!_ Look at me!"

He did. Her eyes were shining and her lips were pressed tightly together in frustration. Soul grinned at the petulant expression that was so like her and reached down to pull her up, the detonator in his pocket temporarily forgotten. He met her stern gaze levelly.

Their time together flashed through his mind as he watched her, a relationship built on an unorthodox meeting and endless trials. A month he'd spent staring at her unconscious in bed, consumed with guilt at the memories of his manipulation of her and everyone else he'd killed. She was funny and sweet, and honestly way too good for him.

Before he could change his mind, Soul kissed her. Hard and desperately and with all the repressed feelings he'd harboured. Maka must have taken it as the goodbye it was because she clawed at his hands roughly, trying to reach him - to _hold_ him - but he kept her arms tightly pinned in his own. His tongue pressed against hers in a final caress before he teasingly bit her bottom lip. Their lips parted and for a single moment they shared the same breath, before everything was torn away and Soul pushed her off the building into the waiting arms of Tsubaki.

Soul ignored the echoing screams below and rose to face the subjects of his endless nightmares. He knew Tsubaki and Blackstar would take Maka far away, despite any protests she may have. It was bittersweet really, because maybe he could have been happy with them - give living another shot. But if he left now, the scientists would immediately follow him out of the lethal range of the explosives. It was the only way to insure that every last one of them died.

"Will you allow us to detain you?" one asked. The group stepped forward.

When he saw that Tsubaki had carried Maka off a decent distance, Soul turned back and smiled sweetly at the faceless robots. He held up the detonator for them to see and pressed down. "I'm all yours."

"**_Soouull!"_**

The explosion filled the darkened sky with brilliant lights, hiding - if only for a moment - the desolate night with the blinding streaks of day.

* * *

A/N: Phew, that was a beast. The next chapter is really short and will be posted in a couple of days. In addition, you can expect the final chapter within the next two or so weeks.

As always thank you to ProMa for beta-reading this chapter!

Cheers!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"So this was how you decided to spend your last day, was it?"

Soul blearily opened his eyes and squinted up at the silhouette staring down at him - the disapproving stance haloed by the bright and unforgiving light of morning. Almost instantly, Soul was met with a splitting headache that caused an immediate and tortured groan to pass through his lips.

"Rough night?"

Soul rudely flipped off the cocky voice and stiffly pushed himself off the sticky floor. One hand raised to clutch his head as he looked around the trashed bar. The stools were broken in half, shattered glass littered the floor, a bra hung around one the hanging lights, and several people were slumped naked on the pool table. It had been his last night before being deployed to fight in the robot wars and he'd gotten suitably hammered in the grungy pub next to his apartment. "Fuck," he muttered, blinking away sleep. "I don't remember shit."

"Well, it certainly looks like you had a good time - you're covered in lipstick marks. Here," the still blurry figure offered his palm. "You have two hours to get into uniform."

Soul took Whitestar's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "I thought we didn't have to be there till 1:45."

Whitestar grinned. "Check your watch, sunshine, it's already 11:30."

"_Fuck_."

Whitestar snickered and led his hungover friend to the exit with a hand on his shoulder. Soul hissed as they walked out the door into the cheery morning air.

"That's what you get," Whitestar chimed. "I invited you to hang out with me and Tsubaki, but you just _had_ to go skirt chasing at the bar."

Soul snorted, fishing around his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. "_Skirt chasing_? Who the hell are you, my mother?"

"I'm serious, you could have come."

"And interrupt your fucking love fest?" Soul rolled his eyes and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. "Yeah, I don't think so."

Whitestar frowned, pulling Soul to the side before he could run into the pole directly in his path. "You should think of getting yourself a girl, Soul. The monogamous lifestyle is surprisingly satisfying."

Soul stuck a smoke in his mouth. "At least my way I can get _satisfied _a different way every time."

"You're such a slut."

"What can I say?" Soul mumbled around the cigarette as he lit it and inhaled. He blew out and grinned. "Ladies love me."

"I asked her to marry me," Whitestar mentioned.

Soul turned, eyebrows raised with a faint grin on his lips. "No shit? What'd she say?"

Whitestar looked like he was trying to suppress the smile on his face but it burst through anyways. "We're getting married after the war."

"Look at you grinning like an idiot," Soul teased, nudging Whitestar with his elbow. "Congratulations."

Whitestar rubbed his arm but the grin wouldn't leave his lips. "Now we just have to get you a girl so our kids can play together."

"Heh. Don't make it weird."

After waving goodbye to his friend, Soul stumbled dizzily into his apartment. He had a quick shower and stuffed his face with some week old chinese food. After that, he tripped over the garbage and clothing that littered his floor and pulled out the uniform that had been pressed and cleaned the day before.

As he was dressing, his eyes strayed up to the face down picture frame that held an image of his family. If he lifted it he knew he would see the carefully vacant expressions of his mother and father, the bored one of his brother, and the unyielding stubbornness of his own. It occurred to him then that he hadn't talked to them in years and now he was going off to war. Would they get a letter if he died? Would anyone?

Soul shook his head at the sobering thought just as someone knocked roughly three times on his door.

"Yeah?" he called, buttoning up his collar.

_"Let's go! We don't have much longer!"_

Soul gave his suddenly lonely apartment a final once over before he grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his back pocket. "Coming!"

* * *

Soul rolled his eyes upward in boredom. The ceiling fans whirled noisily from above, blowing around the stale, dusty air in the room filled with soldiers standing stiffly at attention. From the corner of his vision, Soul could see Whitestar making googly eyes at Tsubaki who stood across the room with the combat nurses.

"Stop that," Soul grunted as he tiredly fidgeted with the collar of his uniform, still dealing with the repercussions of his booze fest the night before. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"You're just jealous of our love," Whitestar retorted, winking at a red faced Tsubaki who glared at him.

They were all waiting in the bland room to hear an "important announcement" before they would be officially deployed to the front lines. Everyone was here - the elite, the regular soldiers, the combat nurses, even the cooks who were going to be sent over.

The door in front of them creaked open and Soul heard someone mutter "_finally_" as a stout man walked smoothly into the room, stealing the attention of everyone inside. His neatly pressed uniform was adorned with ribbons and medals for bravery in the field.

"Hello," he intoned, his gaze strangely vacant as he watched them. "If you would remain where you are, your cooperation will be greatly appreciated." As he spoke, similarly dressed officers filed into the room with stiff, awkward movements. Soul frowned as they formed a circle around the room.

"What's going on?" Whitestar asked from beside him but Soul didn't respond, his eyes still on the men surrounding them. Something felt off about the situation. Maybe it was the dead eyes of the sergeant, or the way the officers moved like lifeless puppets on a string, each step precise and calculated and not a hair out of line. The sounds of shuffling feet told him that the others were feeling a similar sense of unease.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Soul turned his head to see a quirky looking, red-headed boy shakily raise his hand. His eyes were moving rapidly from the sergeant to the officers practically enclosing them in the space. The boy's voice squeaked as he continued, "I have to go to the bathroom. Can I...uh...leave?" He was already inching towards the exit.

"No."

The kid kept moving, sliding past people desperately. "I won't be long."

"Stay where you are," the sergeant ordered blandly.

"You know, I actually think this was a mistake. I... I shouldn't be here."

"You are not permitted to leave," the stout man repeated, still using the same monotone voice.

The sweaty ginger shook his head. "No, it's cool, I'll just go-"

"We do not tolerate insubordination." The sergeant pulled a gun from a hidden holster, cocked it, and shot the boy cleanly through the head. Soul watched in horror as the body swayed then dropped with a dead thud.

Someone screamed and time sped up once more as the room erupted in frantic activity. The soldiers moved out of line as the outside officers marched inwards to restrain them. Protest rang out as people were forced to the floor.

"Tsubaki!"

Soul jerked his head around to see Whitestar struggling through the hysterical bodies towards his fiancé. Tsubaki was on the ground, struggling beneath one of the officers.

"Shit," Soul hissed as he dodged a flailing arm and followed after his friend.

"Remain where you are."

Whitestar ignored the commanding voice of the sergeant and continued to fight to reach Tsubaki.

"Remain where you are."

"Tsubaki!" he yelled, fear coating his tone as Tsubaki writhed frantically.

"Remain where you are."

"Whitestar!" Soul called, fighting against the people around him and clawing at the limbs that blocked his path. "Stay back for now! She'll be fine!"

"I repeat..."

"Let her go!"

"...remain where you are."

Tsubaki looked up with wide, desperate eyes. "_Whitestar!_" she shrieked.

_BANG!_

Soul froze as Whitestar dropped to the ground, the remains of his head a red splattered smear on the concrete floor. He didn't even register when he was forced to the ground by foreign hands, simply trembled in disbelief. Tsubaki's anguished screaming finally managed to pull him from his stupor but it was too late.

He was already being pulled away.

* * *

Soul could feel the grit between his teeth as he lay there, immobile amongst the scorched debris of the laboratory that had once stood tall among the desert sands, a contemptuous reminder of the way his life had been destroyed by the whims of sick creatures. With each breath he took, his lungs burned like an inferno. Soul tried to sit up, but a pain in his chest stopped him. He collapsed back and breathed in shakily.

His eyelids felt impossibly heavy as he fought to keep them open, but for the first time in a decade he experienced physical exhaustion. He'd survived the explosion, but perhaps he wasn't meant to make it out of this alive after all. At least he'd done what he'd promised. Maka was safe, her friends were safe, and he'd killed the bastards that had ruined his life. His lips twitched.

All in all, not a bad night.

Just before his eyes closed again, pulling him into a dark abyss, he saw a distant figure walk towards him amidst the rising plumes of ash and smoke...

* * *

A/N: Final chapter will be posted within two weeks time. Thank you to ProMa for being an awesome beta as per usual.

Cheers!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

When Soul woke, it was without reason or persuasion. One moment much like all others, he opened his eyes to the view of a sunlit room with powder blue walls and brown swaying curtains - ones filled with moth bitten holes that released a damp, musty smell that spoke of old abandoned buildings. Beside him was a worn chair that rocked with every intermittent breeze that blew through the open window. He rubbed his face wearily.

Still alive.

Soul pushed himself up into a sitting position on the bed and stretched. He was about to flip off the covers and swing his legs over the side when the door to the room slowly creaked open. Soul looked up just as Maka slipped in and carefully closed the door behind her. She turned around and immediately seized up when she spotted him staring back at her curiously.

"…Hi," he greeted uncertainly when she remained frozen at the door, the handle held tightly in her white knuckled fist. Her breathing grew shallow as she stared at him, eyes wide and glistening. "Maka?"

She cleared her throat and sniffed softly. "How-how are you feeling?"

"I'm alright."

Maka walked closer and sat down on the side of the bed. They watched each other closely. "You've been asleep for three days," Maka told him quietly after a moment of silence, her fingers gripped tightly in her lap. She still had yet to look away, almost as though she was afraid he would disappear if she did.

Her heart hammered in his ears and his gaze flickered to her chest out of habit, like he expected to see the organ beat beneath her skin. Words failed him so he remained silent.

When his eyes met hers once more he saw them flash in growing annoyance. Her words were sharp as she said, "No one knew if you were going to wake up."

Soul opened his mouth. "I-"

"What the hell were you thinking anyway!?" she suddenly burst, throwing her hands up wildly. Her teeth gritted as she hissed, "You almost died!_ And you threw me off a building!_"

"Look-"

"Do you have any idea how worried we all were? How scared_ I _was? You stupid, selfish... _jackass!_"

"...Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you swear before," he said without thinking. It was a dumb shit thing to say and he regretted it the second it left his lips. His heart twisted when her hard eyes glistened.

"I'm serious!" she spat. Tears spilled from her eyes and she rubbed them away furiously.

"Maka," he waited till she met his stare before continuing, "I had to do it. I couldn't live knowing that that building was still standing."

"What? So you'd rather die? Soul that's insane!"

"Maybe," he conceded, "but it's true."

Maka exhaled wearily and hunched foreword. She rubbed her face and laughed weakly. "I think I'd kill you if I wasn't so happy that you're awake."

Soul smiled. "Where are we anyway?"

She blushed and quietly cleared her throat. "This is my room actually. After what happened, some people decided to go back to their homes. A bunch are still living in the caves, but I'm sure they'll come out eventually."

He thought about pointing out the fact that more labs existed around the world but decided against it. They could have their victory for the moment. "We're in your house?" he asked instead, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Kid brought you here. I thought you'd be more comfortable here than in the caves - they're still a bit biased about... well you know."

"Kid? The one with OCD?"

Maka gave a disapproving frown. "I like to think he isn't defined by his mental illness but yes, _that one_."

Soul smirked. "He's alright then?"

"Yeah, after a while he just woke up. My leg was bad so he volunteered to go look for you."

"And... the emotions?"

Maka grew somber. "Still gone." She then added with a smirk, "Though without them he's not _crazy_ like some people." It felt strange to joke about a subject that was so serious, but with the threat that had loomed over them now gone, it was somehow okay.

"Hey, can I sit up there with you?" Maka asked all of a sudden, her words shy and uncertain.

Soul blinked dumbly for a moment, taken aback by her request, but wordlessly shuffled over so she could fit on the tiny spring coiled mattress.

Maka, who had been near bursting with nerves, quickly scrambled up beside him under the covers before he could change his mind. Without another word she slumped against him. It was nice to touch him again.

"You look tired," Soul mumbled beside her, and she could feel the vibrations through her cheek where it rested against his shoulder. She grunted.

A moment of silence passed before Soul let out a defeated sigh and relaxed against the headboard.

* * *

"What are you going to do now?"

Maka watched Soul - who had been staring out the kitchen window lost in his musings - jolt in his chair and look up at her in confusion. It had been about a day since Soul had woken up. They'd mostly stayed inside and recovered, laying around and doing nothing for what felt like the first time in forever. In the calm though, a niggling doubt wormed its way into Maka's head, driving deeper each time she'd looked over to see Soul staring gravely out a window, consumed by his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Maka shifted in her seat across from him. "Well, we've done what we set out to do. Everyone's okay and safe for now. The most immediate threat is gone. So... what are you going to do?"

He looked down. "I don't know."

"Well what do you want to do?"

Soul shrugged. "I don't know."

Maka sighed and pushed away from the table. Was it _so_ hard to give a concrete answer?As she stood up and grabbed her backpack, she could feel his eyes watching her intently.

"Where're you going?" he asked.

Maka stuffed her feet into her boots and hastily tied them up. "I promised Kid that I would help him fend off all the questions everyone keeps asking him," she replied curtly. "He's apparently been promoted to 'cave leader' and is overwhelmed."

He frowned. "Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad."

"Yes you are," he told her dryly. "You're going to tear your shoelaces if you pull on them any harder."

Gritting her teeth, Maka forced herself to tie her shoes more gently. When she stood up, she glared at his smug expression. "I'll be back later."

"Wait, I'm coming."

"You sure?" Maka grated. "You don't need a little bit more time to ponder it?"

Soul grinned, chucking her under the chin teasingly as he brushed past her. "Nope."

Maka stuck her tongue out at his back.

* * *

The caves were very different from when he'd last stepped foot in them. Once barren, the great halls were now filled with life and, though somber, the atmosphere emitted a sense of togetherness.

"Tsubaki's started emotional classes for the cyborgs," Maka said as they moved through the crowded room. People were sitting in small groups, curled around each other with weary expressions on their dirt stained faces.

"She's always enjoyed teaching," Soul said in response to her statement. She'd been planning on going to college and getting her degree after the war. Since recruits got help with school funding, it had been the perfect opportunity. Or it had seemed like it at least.

"Kid!" Soul paused in his musings and turned his head just as Maka ran off to her friend. The one he'd hauled around for an hour in a maze. It was kind of weird seeing him upright.

Walking up beside Maka, Soul caught the rear end of the conversation.

"... and so they don't want to live together and are arguing," Kid spoke the words vacantly.

"We've all known each other for years, why would they do this? It's not like they require any maintenance."

"They don't recognize them as they are now," Kid said. "They believe they might as well have died in those labs. Some might even prefer it if they had."

"Bigots," Maka muttered.

"It is unfortunate," Kid responded as he looked briefly at Soul. "However, they are coming around."

Soul could tell Maka felt uncertain about how to act around her friend. Every now and then her hand would almost unconsciously move closer to touch Kid - a pat on the arm, a friendly nudge - but she'd jerk it back quickly at the last second, like she'd suddenly remembered his emotional state.

Maka tucked her hands under her armpits, probably to keep from reaching out as her mannerisms dictated. "So what do you want me to do?"

"If you would sit at a table and answer any questions or concerns, it would be very helpful," he answered blandly. After a moment of silence he reached over and quickly patted her shoulder before turning around to leave.

"Of course," Maka murmured, a sad smile on her face as she moved towards the table he'd indicated, leaving Soul to follow after her.

"You okay?" he asked when he'd caught up.

"I'm alright," she murmured softly, looking back over her shoulder at Kid. "It's just weird seeing him like this."

"If people don't want to live together with the ones that were experimented on, why was he chosen to be in charge?" he wondered.

"People trust Kid," she explained. "He's always been calm and reliable. Mostly though, people sense that his change hasn't altered him completely. I don't know if it was because of his outburst back at the labs but... he feels more than the others."

Soul thought back to the small pat the otherwise robotic man had given Maka, perhaps in response to her suppressed need for friendly contact. Maybe she was right.

Maka reached the table and pulled back one of the chairs. By the time Soul had dragged a second chair over and slumped down on it, flinging his arm over the back of hers, a line had already formed before them.

"Hi Martha," Maka greeted.

"First of all," the stingy woman began, "I want you to know I'm not happy with how things are going..."

As Maka watched the middle aged woman in front of her drone on with a blank expression, she could feel herself quickly losing her patience.

"...I don't care if they used to be human! My grandbabies won't be subject to your robot sympathizing ways. And another thing-!"

Maka held up a hand to stop the complaining woman. "Okay, Mrs. Smith. Thank you for your input, and again - they are not actually robots."

"It aint natural!"

"Thank you Ms. Smith, can we please have the next in line?"

By the time the painfully long line had finally dwindled, Maka had a vague idea of what the issue was.

Now that everyone was back in the caves and there was a new population of cyborgs to deal with, there was some controversy about living arrangements. Half the people didn't mind living with those that had been modified against their will, but the other half - the ones hit hardest by the wars - vehemently disagreed. Part of the reason behind the general unease was the apathetic aura they conveyed. Many of those that had been changed in the labs had yet to access their emotions, despite Tsubaki's regular "classes".

Maka leaned back in her chair with a sigh. The situation was a tough one, and would likely only be sorted with time.

"Ready to go?" Soul asked as she stretched her arms up above her head.

"I'm going to eat first. Do you know what's for dinner?"

Soul listened for a moment. "It's venison apparently."

Maka snorted as she pushed out of her chair. "Venison? Oh dear."

Soul just rolled his eyes.

* * *

Over the next week, Maka spent her time slowly reorganizing her life, trying to find a rhythm in the chaos and endless disorder that had come from the recent change. She helped Kid deal with the reluctant people still unwilling to accept the cyborgs, but mostly she'd hung around her old home, cleaning up and fixing the roof.

Through it all, Soul had been her almost constant companion. He'd decided to stay with her in her house, but part of her knew it was only a matter of time before he whisked off into the distance. He'd made her no promises after all. The thought had been churning within her like a disease and every time she caught him staring determinedly out a window that feeling would further rot away inside her.

* * *

Maka was acting different.

Soul frowned as he watched her shrewdly. The changes were subtle at first - the most noticeable being the absence of her normally frequent nudges - but then she grew colder. Her words, only used when he instigated a conversation, had grown clipped and bored. She refused to meet his eyes and it was really starting to piss him off.

Blackstar and Tsubaki had come over to visit and she was completely ignoring him. Tsubaki was explaining the logistics of her emotional "classes" she was giving the newly turned cyborgs and Blackstar was droning on in his ear about how bored he was.

"Now that all the bad guys are gone there isn't anything to do!" Blackstar complained. "I mean, we had nothing to do before but now we _really _don't have anything to do, you know?"

What was her problem, Soul wondered as he stared at her pointedly turned back in annoyance,

it wasn't like he'd done anything that would offend her.

"My skills are wasted with nothing to do. I'm too awesome for this mediocre existence."

From his place on the couch, Soul reached over and nudged Maka's chair with his foot. Her back tensed, but she continued talking casually to Tsubaki. He did it again.

"What?" she hissed, head whirling around.

Soul shrugged. "You tell me."

Maka glared, opening her mouth to retort but Tsubaki quickly butted into the conversation and cut her off. "I think we better get going, Blackstar."

"What?" he whined. "We just got here."

Tsubaki stood away from the kitchen table. "I have some classes to teach. I forgot."

Blackstar frowned. "But you just did that."

"These are extra."

"But-"

"_Now_."

As Tsubaki dragged away a reluctant Blackstar, she shot Soul the most lethal look he'd ever seen on her face and whispered harshly under her breath, quiet enough that only he could hear her, "_Be nice._"

He ignored her, eyes on Maka as the other two left and shut the door firmly behind them. After a moment he stood up and leaned against her counter, arms crossing as he watched her. "What the hell is up with you?" he asked.

"Nothing," she responded calmly.

"_Bullshit_," he snapped, surprising himself with the degree of anger he heard in his own voice. He walked towards her and put his hands on his hips. "Why are you acting so standoffish?"

"Why do care?" Maka shot back, pushing back her chair to put distance between them. "You're going to leave anyway."

She stood up and was stomping away when he grabbed her arm. "Is _that_ what this is about?" he asked in disbelief.

She jerked her arm away and spat, "Well aren't you!?"

"Do you want me to?"

She threw her hands up in exasperation and glared at him. "Of course not! But it isn't like you'll stay if I ask. You already know how I feel but you haven't said anything!"

Soul scoffed. "You don't love me, Maka. You hardly know me."

Maka glared at him. "Is that what you think of me? Some little girl who doesn't know her own feelings? _How dare_ you belittle me that way."

"Then why Maka?" he challenged, moving closer till he was looming over her. The height difference didn't deter her, the anger in her eyes as fierce as ever. "_Why_ do you love me?"

"Because you're an _idiot_," Maka cried, "and you're selfish and you don't help others. You're rude and vindictive and-"

"Please continue," Soul deadpanned, "you have me weak at the knees."

"Let me finished!" she demanded, took a breath, and continued, "You're all those things and more _to everyone_ _but me_. From the moment I met you - _you_, not your evil twin - you have gone out of your way to help me in every way possible. You played the piano when I asked you to Soul, and I can't ever remember being happier because you _did it for me_. Soul, you _fought yourself _when I needed you to. You're strong, you're loyal... how could I not love you?"

Soul was quiet for a long while, simply staring at her with wide eyes. Then he asked her softly, "How do you know?"

Maka paused. "...What?"

He cleared his throat. "How do you know I wouldn't stay if you asked? You never have."

Maka blinked stupidly. "Uh... will you stay?"

His lips twitched. "No." Soul caught the fist she was aimed at his nose with a laugh. "Let me finish. I've been thinking about traveling to different parts of the country to try and help with the robot problem."

"What?" Maka asked.

"What else am I going to do, Maka? It needs to be done and nobody else is doing it as far as we know."

"But-"

"Do you want to come with me? I'd like you to."

Maka instantly blushed, the red hue traveling up her neck and to her cheeks and finally the very tips of her ears. She looked at her feet. "Oh. Good. That's good. Okay, yes."

With a laugh, Soul grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the mouth.

"Blackstar's going to want to come you know," Maka told him when they separated.

Soul's head fell against her shoulder and he groaned.

**The End**

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I'm the first to admit that the story as a whole is a little (okay a lot) roughbut I am so proud of myself for finishing it because it is the first chapter story that I have seen through to the end. Thank you for reading, thank you to those who have stuck with it from the beginning (Kaji13, Iloveallanime16), and thank you to x cheetah x who started this whole shit storm.

I'm not sure this went in the direction most people wanted or even expected and I really appreciate those of you who have read through to the end. It's a bit open ended, but I did that on purpose. I may write a sequel depending on how many ideas pop in my head - because there is a lot I have left unsaid and places I could go with the story. If I do, it will be of course after resbang and after I clean out my plot bunny drawer.

(Also thanks to ProMa for putting up with my shit and being my beta)


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